Beneath a Phrygian Sky (Previous title: Under the Milky Way)
by Jack Wayne
Summary: Raymond's sister is fatally sick and the only operation that can save is in America and too expensive. But when Konami's Duelist Kingdom tournament offers 3 million to first place winner, Raymond couldn't decline. But he's obviously not the only person who is gunning for that prize. Can he really win the money to cure his sister, or will he fail miserably?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Welcome to my Yu-Gi-Oh All-Original Fanfiction!** **I don't want to talk much in this Author's note, as knowing myself, I'd probably reveal too much. But there are some important things to establish before you start reading this fan fiction.**

 **This will be taking place in the real world, but at the same time, it wouldn't be. What I mean by this is that there will be no canon characters appearing in this fan fiction because they're all fictional characters, that the Yu-Gi-Oh series is just that: a fictional series. Konami actually exists instead of Industrial Illusions. However, there will be made-up cards and booster cards because come on, this is what happens in every episode ever.**

 **Also, I've never been in a big tournament before, so I'm bound to get some things wrong (A LOT OF THINGS WRONG) and I'm not well-versed in the meta-game, but I can't change it at this point because everything is already planned out (as planned out as it could be). The point is that this story was always in my head and I feel like if I don't write it out. it's going to haunt me forever.**

 **Anyway! Here we goooo!**

 **Side note: if you don't know how to play, you probably won't enjoy this. This is going to rely heavily on your knowledge of the game.**

* * *

 _From below, Raymond could hear the shattering of the vase he bought for his mother._

 _It wasn't one of those cheap glass vases; it was the porcelain painted with blue flowers and olive branches. A fine piece of art his father helped him choose. He didn't ask money from her or anyone to buy it for her; that would have rendered it meaningless. Instead, he went around the neighborhood asking if anyone had anything that needed to be done and he did it for a low price. Helped mow Mr. Duncan's lawn, walked Mrs. Monroe's dogs, babysat the Rhoads sisters, and so on. All of these things when he was still only nine years old._

 _It was by the sweat of his brow did he earned the gift to show her how much he appreciated his mom._

 _And his dad just knocked it out of the shelf like it was a worthless item to relieve his stress._

 _No matter how hard Raymond tried to cover his ears, he could still hear the heated exchange between them. The wails of his mother and beckoning of his father lessened as his fear took the better of him, making him cower upstairs and refuse to peek down on them._

 _"Why!?" His mother cried out in confusion as she too took something from the living room and slammed it by the wall. "Richard, why!?"_

 _"For God's sake, if you stop and listen, you'll know why!" His father screamed back. The rest of his sentence were only mumbled as Raymond tried to plug his ears harder. But it wouldn't change anything. Raymond was only refusing to face the truth occurring downstairs. Only a staircase away._

 _Richard used to always come home with a smile on his face. A buttoned-up suit, chokingly tight tie, and a briefcase of important documents. Raymond can recall the times where he and his sister would run up and scream "Daddy!" as they clutch onto his legs. It brightened any father at the end of the day, to have two children eager to see you home after a long and exhausting day in a cubicle._

 _Raymond used to call his dad the cookie monster from "Sesame Street" as Richard stuff his face with the snacks before supper to satisfy his growling stomach._

 _Mom would take time out from preparing the dinner to kiss him a welcoming taste and Raymond and his sister would say a long "Eww…" every time. No shame. Just love flowing through the blessed family, as his mom always prayed for every night. Beautiful, wasn't it? A classical family so many singles yearn for and would be jealous of. The most blissful experience to take part in._

 _So fragile to be shattered by a single mistake._

 _"I told you to stay the hell away from her, Richard!"_

 _"It was a one-time mistake!"_

 _"One time!? ONE TIME!? She showed me how many times you've called her! It explains everything! Why you keep making excuses and why you've not been home like you used to!"_

 _"We're just friends, nothing more! What we had is dust in the past!"_

 _"A friend who you spend more time with than with your own family! I've seen how she's looked at you, she wants you back!"_

 _"What do you know!? You don't know every single detail of my life!"_

 _"I don't know!? We're married, I know more than enough!"_

 _The raging roars below started to become mumbled again as Raymond felt two warm arms wrapped around him. He turned his head to find his elder sister embracing him as tightly as possible. Her long black hair with blonde tips fell onto his shrinking shoulders like a waterfall and he could feel her arms shaking in crippling fear as he looked upon her eyes, trying to hold back the tears._

 _"Shh, it's okay Raymond." She began, stroking his cold arms with the comforting warmth of her body. "Mom and dad are just having a fight. It'll pass, and they'll make up."_

 _"Are they really?" Raymond asked with watery eyes. Even Raymond, as a child of five years old, could sense the conquering doubt in her words. He knew what was going on; Mom always said that adultery is not something so easily forgiven. Mom would take them to church every month and teach them the Word of God. Dad would sometimes be there too. The Seventh Commandment to which his mother and father had been teaching to their children._

 _But Richard was a hypocrite._

 _"Fine! I admit it! I don't love you anymore! Are you happy now!? You got me! Do you even know how unloved I felt!? You think our marriage was some magical prize you won, and I was supposed to make you happy!? Keep blaming me for our marriage problems." Raymond's father finally spoke the thoughts on his mind and stormed out of the house._

 _The dust settled, everything was so quiet that the siblings could hear the mumbled whispering of their neighbors a couple of lawns across. Gossips and topics. Soon, it spread to the ears of everyone the family knew; the woman didn't know the meaning of privacy or how to shut the hell up._

 _Gathering up their courage, Raymond and his sister slowly crept down the staircase to check the terrain after the storm. Of course, the first thing they see was the broken pieces of the vase thrown off the shelf, shattered near Raymond's school backpack. A few other things broken as well: the tea set given to them on their wedding day, the photo of the family camping trip to the Jasper National Park, his sister's trophies, and so on._

 _Mom was going to be okay, right? She wouldn't let this cripple her just yet. Mom and Dad would come back to amend what damage he did, and—_

 _They found their mother sobbing helplessly, sitting on her knees._

* * *

"Come on kid, get up!"

Raymond started to open his eyes again, finding himself laying face-down on the fighting ring. A mat surrounded by a wild audience cheering and booing at him.

"Get up!" Someone from his corner shouted at him. A man's voice. His sponsor Ben.

Right. Raymond was in the middle of a fight, wasn't he?

His neck felt a little sprained and his legs were asleep, felt like his legs were stuffed with needles inside. Though it didn't take long for the numbness to go away and returned to his control. Every muscle in his body began to stretch out as he moved, adjusting to the now active body that he commanded. His heartbeat returned to normal and his eyes were no longer weary. It wasn't any good of a sleep he ever had, but it certainly returned his energy to continue again.

"Seven!" The referee shouted.

Raymond tried to get up by pulling on one of the ropes. Instead, his tired arm gave into the nulling pain and collapsed weakly on the mat. In retrospect, he did a pretty good job at protecting his head, no more than a couple for hits. That didn't make it easier on the rest of his body though.

"Eight!"

Raymond tried again; this time, he managed to push down the feeling of the screeching bruises that covered his body. They were begging for him to stay down, that this fight wasn't worth fighting for. Never listened to them, because they're a bunch of liars, no matter how much they're a part of Raymond.

"Nine!"

His opponent turned back to him. His cocky smile just ticked off Raymond even more, though it didn't tick him off as much as the first time. Both of them knew that Raymond threw some heavy punches as well. If he could just throw a few more punches in, he'd win this fight. He had to.

Not to mention that when the ten seconds was up, his opponent was free to beat on him even more.

"HE'S UP!" The referee announced, much to the temporary dismay of those who betted against him. Why wouldn't they be? He was going up against the reigning champion after all. "You okay? You think you can still fight?"

Raymond only nodded. His mouth guard didn't allow him to speak.

"Beat his shit, Greenie!" A spectator shouted from the audience as a right jab got Raymond on the side.

The hard, bare knuckles clashed against the side of his face, knocking him off balance and he lost sight of his opponent for half a second. Half a second was less than enough for his opponent to clock his face again, as Raymond blocked that incoming attack.

Raymond countered with a mirror jab, repaying his opponent with the same treatment as he received. But that only made the guy angrier; each of his hits were only coals fueling the fire within the other fighter. Raymond kept his fist guards up, blocking the fists from knocking his teeth out. Over and over, he couldn't move his arms from guarding as his opponent rapidly shot his fists that aimed for his pretty face.

"Finish him, Greenie!" Another spectator shouted from the gathering crowd. "Fuck him up really good! Let his mama see his fuck-up ass!"

"Argh!" Raymond cried as Greenie kicked him on the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel on one leg. That was all the time Greenie needed to dominate Raymond; he pulled back his fist like he was pulling the string of a bow and let his punch soar across Raymond's face like an arrow. Right at the left eye, confusing his sense of direction and balance, Raymond fell. His left eye was now temporarily blind, and his damaged knee wasn't listening to any command his brain was telling it to do.

Greenie jumped on top of Raymond, swinging his fists back and forth aimed at his head. He only had one arm to guard; the other arm was pinned down by Greenie's leg. He could parry one swinging fist, but then it left him open to the other fist, hammering down at the side of his head. Desperately, Raymond tried to wiggle his other arm free; little by little, it came closer to becoming loose, despite Greenie's best efforts to keep his other arm bounded. So instead, Greenie pinned down Raymond's arm down with his own.

Now both fighters had only one arm to work with. Raymond saw his opportunity right at that second; he punched the guy straight in the nose. It distracted him; his face felt caved in, he teared up almost immediately and a painful headache quickly followed. It really knocked the wind out of him, and his nose started bleeding. He wouldn't be able to breathe through his nose at all, drowning in his own blood.

Greenie lost focus and Raymond freed himself from his grasp. Now was his chance; Raymond readied his punch and smacked it right up Greenie's jaw, distorting his sense of balance even further. Again, he smacked on Greenie's head, then kicked him at the back of his knees to pin him down. Raymond now had the leverage, beating and kicking Greenie until his body gave out and couldn't fight against Raymond's assaults any longer.

He was down. Greenie was down.

"One!" The referee began. "Two!"

Greenie didn't stay down easily, as he too tried to pull himself up by the ropes. As if mimicking Raymond's previous actions, his arm also collapsed on the mat. He tried again, pushing himself up to stand, but failed again. His actions weren't fast enough to catch up with the referee's countdown, as he neared to completion.

"Nine! Ten! HE'S OUT! HE'S OUT!"

Raymond collapsed on his knees, rewinding every scene in his mind. He could've arm-dragged Greenie when Greenie went to the punch; instead, Raymond chose to take that and attempted to counter. An arm-drag would've been more successful. His second mistake was to assume that Greenie at least had the honor of a fist-fight; how wrong he was when Greenie tried to shatter his kneecap. This was an illegal and dirty fight, why did Raymond assume honor was here in the first place?

The fight was done, Raymond had won. It was about time he got off and rest up for another day. But Raymond was stopped by his sponsor, excited that the horse he had bet on was the winner. But he was still not satisfied. He—the crowd—they all wanted to see brutality. "What are you doing!? We came to see a show! Get in there and beat him up really good!"

"Ben, he's down; we both agreed that I just had to win." Raymond pointed to the still-conscious man lying on the mat with pain all over his body. It was obvious to everyone that he cannot fight anymore. "I've won; now give me the money promised."

His sponsor tsked, regretting that he should've added more to the deal. But there was one idea in his mind. "How about I pay you double to mess him up really good?"

Double… Raymond looked back at the defeated Greenie. Should he? Greenie was already down… what kind of a man would Raymond be if he attacked someone who already lost? Looking at him, Raymond felt a bit of pity even; Greenie must have his own reasons for entering the pit. It was over however, no need to humiliate and injure Greenie any more than it was.

But… Double… it'd too much to refuse.

"Fine." Raymond submitted to the money.

Raymond returned to Greenie, fists ready and will determined. He was going to have to get that double. Greenie tried to back away, but Raymond was faster, jumping on top of him and bound him to that location. Raymond was going to give the crowd what they want: Greenie's brutalized head on a stake, and there was nothing his sense of pride and morality could do to stop him.

His sister came first.

"Yo! Some nigga called the cops!" Some lookout thug shouted into the warehouse. "They're here!"

Raymond stopped; what timing they have. Good or bad, he couldn't decide. They could bust in here at any minute now and arrest everyone, arrest the crowd, his sponsor, him. He needed that money; any money he could get his hands on: he needed it. Although… this was the perfect excuse to spare Greenie from pain; he can make a run for it and his sponsor will perfectly understand. Sure, he'd have to give up the doubled payment, but he'd still have the money he agreed upon.

Raymond quickly ran to his sponsor, hitting him on the back of the shoulder like hitting a horse to hasten its legs. "Come on, let's make a run for it. Follow me."

Most of the people in there was heading for the back door, but Raymond led his sponsor upstairs, skipping steps and moving their legs as fast as they could. The door started banging, and banging, and banging, until it finally gave in to the ramming outside.

"Freeze!" The police busted in shouting, with guns and cuffs ready and chasing the rest of the people in the fight club. "Nobody moves!"

This would've all been avoided if some idiot kept his mouth shut about fight club. It was the first rule: never talk about it. But otherwise Raymond would've never found out about it.

The metal staircase sure as hell wasn't quiet, echoing every running steps Raymond and his sponsor was making, attracting some of the other officers that begin chase after them. They passed the second floor, third floor, fourth floor, until they reached the roof. Raymond peeked over the edge, watching the police having this building surrounded with their siren cars and uniforms standing guard outside. Must be a slow day for them to have so many gathered for such a petty thing.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Ben was angry; how'd someone escape in this situation? "You weren't hit that hard in the head, were you?"

Raymond pointed at the side of the roof that led to the next building. The two roofs were close enough that one could jump from one side to the other. This was his plan; the police shouldn't have that much people to cover the whole block of buildings. From one glance, Raymond could count the number of uniforms on the ground, and it sure wasn't enough to surround them.

"Oh, never mind, I take that back." Ben declared. He ran after Raymond who already had a head-start, faster and faster, picking up the pace if he wanted to make that jump. The police just arrived on the roof right on time, spotting the two fleeing away from the scene.

"Freeze!" One of them shouted. "Stay where you are!"

Ben stopped at his tracks; cursing himself for actually listening. Now he didn't have the speed to make the jump anymore. Perhaps it was for the best; rather to be arrested than to risk broken bones or even death. Looking at it now, Ben backed away from the edge and raised his hands above his head and got on his knees, waiting for the officers to come and put cuffs on him. His mind shifted back to the logical as he was kneeling; he could always pull a few strings to untangle the mess of yawn he was trapped in.

But Raymond didn't stop. No. He couldn't stop. As he ran, there was only one person on his mind: his sister. Forget the police, forget the possible death that would occur if he didn't make it, forget even the money he fought so hard for a second. Last thing she needed was to worry about him over the news that he had been arrested while she laid on that hospital bed, slowly having the sickness take over.

No. Not today, not ever. She didn't deserve that heavy weight on her mind.

Raymond ran, at this point let gravity and momentum fling his legs as far as possible, then putting energy back to his legs to push him forward. This was it; take the chance. One shot to make it. Here goes, he leapt…

And his legs failed to land onto the next building's roof.

He fell, quickly closing in the five-story length between him and the concrete ground. Would've had his blood spattered on the ground below had his hands not grabbed onto the edge of the other roof.

"Damn…" Ben muttered in awe as the two police officers chasing them caught up and arrested him. "Didn't think he would actually make it."

Raymond pulled himself up to the platform, crawling his way over the ridge and hide from a gun's line of sight. But there was no time to waste, the cops must've spotted him running away from them and they must've radioed about it about now.

"We have a runner," one of the officers spoke to his radio. Raymond got back up, running further away and not looking back.

God damn this all; he fought Greenie for naught. If he ever found out whoever made that call to the police and made Raymond lose that money he earned, he would personally sucker-punch that son of a bitch and throw him in front of the angry people stolen of a show they paid to enjoy. But for now, he fled…

* * *

It had been a few days before things calmed down with the police. It was no miracle that he didn't get caught; he used a stage name after all. And even if his sponsor Ben did talk, he only knew Raymond's pseudonym. One could never be too careful.

Raymond walked through the waiting room on the far left of the corridor. The hospital was crowded as usual; heck, even the same people were still there when he came over this evening, and that was five hours ago. Just waiting and waiting and waiting… some just got here, other have been waiting here for hours just to see a nurse. Some already saw the nurse and was told again to seat down in the triage and take another number to wait for the doctor to come. There were people with just minor injuries, a sprained wrist sitting across from him and a teenage boy wearing a surgical mask, coughing frequently.

People came, and people went. That sounded nice, until one realized that people came to be treated, only to be ordered to sit around for hours. Once they get tired of waiting, they simply went away, unable to find the patience to wait anymore. They risked their own health to spare themselves from the boredom.

Not that Raymond could blame them, he would've done the same thing if it was him. Time always tended to stretch itself out to as if it was a conscious being that took pleasure in aging people's minds and imprisoning them in a jail made of their own volition, never knowing if their time have come.

"Raymond?" The young nurse at the front desk called out. "Visiting your sister again today?"

"Yeah…" Raymond was handed the visitor's log which he quickly signed. "It's pretty obvious."

She smiled, not knowing whether or not that was a sign saying he didn't want to talk. "Yeah, it is."

He left the conversation awkward. In truth, he didn't care much for small talk with some people, even those he kind of knew. He was here for just one purpose and one purpose only.

And after he made his way through the elevator on the second floor, down the corridor at the room second last, there was that special someone who slept on the bed he laid his eyes on.

It was her, Reynalda.

Beautiful Reynalda, a woman who knew how to calm a raging nova and a woman who could stop floods running down from a child's eyes. But in front of Raymond, she would act as a child herself from time to time. Only to him, she would act that way. He didn't know if she just still saw him as a child, or that she trusted him enough to reveal her inner child around him. Maybe she just liked annoying the heck out of him, that was certainly seemed like what she would do.

She looked adorable when she slept; Raymond was thankful that she didn't snore like their mother. Moments with her put his heart at ease, knowing that she was always there for him, and now he would always be here for her. His hand moved towards her, stroking her long blonde hair, and running his fingers down her pale face. Until he touched the drooling parts around her mouth.

"Raymond…" She yawned as she stretched her limbs and quietly got up, careful not to wake the other patients in the room. "How long have you been here?"

Raymond pulled out a napkin out his pocket and started wiping the drool off. Despite his best efforts, it had already stained deep on her gown. "I just got here."

"Raymond…" She yawned again, punching him on the same shoulder that was still healing from the fight days ago. He held his stature, biting his tongue down to not show any pain. "Don't you have school? You should go."

"School's already over." Raymond reached for her hand and grip it as tight as possible without hurting her, as if she would leave him for Heaven if he didn't do it. After realizing that he is however hurting her, he let her go and patted her head, soothing her back to leaning on his shoulder. "And besides, you're more important than a day of school."

"Raymond," Reynalda plead. "As your responsible older sister, it's my duty to make sure you have a proper and good education."

"But—"

"No buts!" Reynalda countered with a hint of authority over him. Raymond tilt his head down in shame and obedience, but Reynalda raised it back up with her gentle hands and radiate her smile upon him. "Raymond, Mom wanted the best for you. I want the best for you. I especially want you to be the best you can be. A good life, happy future, maybe introduce me to your girlfriend…"

"That's assuming I have the time to be intimate with another human being." Raymond joked. "You're already a handful; I doubt I can handle another one."

"Hey!" She threw a slap on his wrist. "That… that… um…"

"You can't even defend yourself?" He chuckled.

"Shut up!" She pouted. She even folded her arms and shook away her face! Oh, that was just adorable. But then some idea popped up in her head and she smirked. "I'm just too good that you keep coming back."

"That's… not a good comeback."

"I don't care! My words are final!" She pouted again! Oh, how he just wanted to poke her cheek with his finger. She really acted like a child sometimes. Speaking of which…

"I object!" Raymond humored her. "I propose we settle this in a children's card game!"

"What?" Reynalda was baffled.

"You heard me." Raymond smiled. His hands reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of sleeved cards and placed it on the breakfast table. "I found our old Yu-Gi-Oh cards when I was looking for stuff to sell. I tried selling them, but nobody would buy it, so I'm stuck with it."

"You tried to sell it?" Reynalda was a little shocked. "Raymond, these are your favorite cards."

"Were." He corrected. And honestly, it hurt him to hear that she thought that he wouldn't sacrifice a mere childhood nostalgia for her well-being. He reached out and held her cold hands, warming them up. "Sis, I would sell anything for you to get better."

"Mom used to buy them for us…" She spoke softly. Her eyes became entranced as she went down on memory lane. Raymond couldn't understand how she could've found that memory something good to remember, when he was jumping up and down and crying out loud for her to buy one for him.

"Yeah… she did." He lost his first deck on their trip to China. It was a starter deck with Junk Warrior as the cover card. It was way back when he thought that anything a Yu-Gi-Oh anime protagonist played was automatically good because they would always win with it. back when… well, when she was never divorced.

"You used to be so obsessed with these." She chuckled. "You kept nagging me to play them with you."

"Yeah, I did." It gave him a thrill, he wanted to feel like the king of games himself. What four-year old boy didn't want to feel that way?

"I…" She choked a bit. "I miss her."

"Me too…" Raymond then shuffled the deck and drew five cards. "Same as always?"

"Of course." She smiled as well and drew five cards from the same deck. "Ladies first."

[TURN 1 Reynalda LP/4000 Hand/5 — 6]

She took a long and hard look at the cards she had in her hand. It's been so long… how many years had it been? Six? Nine? Thirteen? Raymond didn't keep track, not when his memories were as fallible to insignificant things as any memories from his childhood. Time indeed flew so fast for him to have felt that it wasn't that long ago. But if memories served him enough, she should always have that one card in her hand.

"When I control no monster, I can special summon Photon Thrasher [LIGHT Warrior LV4 ATK/2100 DEF/0] from my hand. Then, I summon Photon Chargeman [LIGHT Warrior LV4 ATK/1000 — 2000 DEF/1000] and tribute the two to special summon the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon [LIGHT Dragon LV8 ATK/3000 DEF/2500]."

Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon. Of course, she would have that in her hand. She always had it in her hand. It was like she was connected to the card or something.

 _"No fair! You're cheating!"_

 _"How so?"_

 _"There's just no way you always have Galaxy-Eyes in your hand! Dragons are for boys! You're a girl!"_

 _"Maybe it just likes me more than you."_

 _"No fair! That's my favorite monster! Why does it always choose you!?"_

Raymond chuckled, much to Reynalda's confusion. He could remember it like it was yesterday. It was more like a curse in this case however, as he could categorize that moment under cringe things he said as a kid.

She set one card and passed the turn over to him.

[TURN 1 Reynalda LP/4000 Hand/2]

[TURN 2 Raymond LP/4000 Hand/5 — 6]

"I activate Luminous Dragon Ritual to ritual summon Paladin of Photon Dragon!" Raymond dramatically declared, mimicking the all-beloved sexy voice that was Yami Yugi. Why? Why not? Childhood nostalgia was too hard to resist. Reynalda tried to hold in her laughter as he grabbed the deck and searched through it. "Then I'll tribute it for my own Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!"

Reynalda flipped over her set card. "I activate Bottomless Trap Hole to banish your dragon!" She played along, channeling her own anime duelist.

"Not good enough," He smirked. "I activate the equip spell, Different Dimension Reincarnation. By discarding a card, I can special summon back Galaxy-Eyes."

"Clever." She smiled.

"Now! Galaxy-Eyes attacks and banishes both of our monsters!" Raymond declared. "Then, both of our monsters return at the end of the battle phase. Now my monster's fate is no longer linked to my equip spell! I set 1 card and end."

[TURN 2 Raymond LP/4000 Hand/0]

[TURN 3 Reynalda LP/4000 Hand/2 — 3]

"I activate Polymerization to fusion summon Twin Photon Lizard!" She grabbed the two monsters out from her hand and sent it to the graveyard, then she searched through the deck for her monster. Yes, the main deck; neither of them never bothered to separate the extra deck from it before and they sure weren't going to change it now. It practically became tradition.

"Galaxy Eyes Photon Dragon attacks your copy and banishes both, allowing my Twin Photon Lizard to attack you directly!"

Raymond's hand was already on his face-down card. "I don't think so."

"What?"

"I activate my trap, Ring of Destruction! Now Twin Photon is destroyed and we both take damage equal to its attack!"

[TURN 3 Reynalda LP/4000 — 1600 Hand/0]

[TURN 3 Raymond LP/4000 — 1600 Hand/0]

"And since you've got nothing in your hand and on your field, I'm assuming it's my turn now?"

"Our Galaxy-Eyes return at the end of the battle phase, and I end my turn." She frowned.

[TURN 3 Reynalda LP/1600 Hand/0]

[TURN 4 Raymond LP/1600 Hand/0 — 1]

"I activate Monster Reborn to bring back Paladin of Photon Dragon!" He cracked up his victorious laughter up five notches, purposefully annoying Reynalda. Oh, how he loved to rub it in her face! "I then tribute Paladin of Photon Dragon to summon the third copy of Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon from the deck!"

"Oh no!" She cried out, still in character.

"Galaxy Eyes Photon Dragon attacks your copy and banishes both, allowing my second Galaxy Eyes Photon Dragon to attack you directly!"

[TURN 4 Raymond LP/1600 — 0 Hand/0]

"Noooooo~!" She raised her arms and prolonged her voice, crying out like an actual photon stream of destruction was destroying her inside out.

"You can stop now." He suggested, giving her a deadpan stare.

She burst into laughter a second later. He never enjoyed this specific laugh. There was the genuine laugh when he break-danced for her on her birthday, then there that wicked laugh she had when his first-grade teacher had to call Mom to tell her he peed in his pants and needed a change of clothes.

But her laughing soon turned to coughing. At first, he thought it was just a regular one, the one someone would have after breathing in too much dust. But when the coughing persisted, he immediately shot up from his seat and eased her onto the bed.

Blood got his sleeve.

"Reynalda!" Raymond panicked. "Hold on! I'll get a doctor!"

"It's fine…" She wiped her mouth with the box of tissues on her nightstand, to which she tossed into the garbage bin a little further away. "The doctor already gave me my meds this morning. I shouldn't have stressed myself."

"But—"

"It's fine, Raymond." She emphasized.

Raymond didn't want to stress her any more than she already was, but neither did he miss the inside of the garbage bin, which was halfway filled with bloody tissues. He hoped for a second that it belonged to the patient next to her… he wanted for it to be the patient next to her. He wanted anyone else to die, as long as it wasn't Reynalda. But he knew better.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?"

She didn't want to answer, but she couldn't hide it, not from him.

"Don't worry, sis." He placed his hand on her shoulders. It wasn't gentle, though it wasn't strong either. It was the touch of hope that he tried to give. "You'll get that surgery."

She chuckled, her face downcast. "Raymond, we don't have the money for that."

"We will…" He gulped. "I'll make sure we do."

"Raymond…" She was suddenly terrified of what he implied. "What are you—"

"I found…" He threw up in his mouth a little. "I found Dad."

Her eyes widened. "Dad? He— you've met him!?" Her eyes glittered with hope. Hope from a worthless man that surpassed any amount Raymond had given her. It disgusted him. "How is he?"

"I didn't say I've met him, I only said I've found that son of a bitch."

"Raymond, don't call him that…"

"Why not!?" He didn't mean to raise his voice at her like that, but he couldn't lower it even though he wanted to. "He left us to be with some D-Class whore!"

"Raymond…" She took hold of his hand. He suddenly felt himself getting calmer as the seconds went by without her letting go. "I just want go back to the times when we were all together."

He wanted to combat her. Oh, how he wanted to scream just about how wrong she was to easily forgive that man. Mom recovered, but she was never the same ever again. Night after night she overworked herself to maintain the life they lived. That is until she got sick just like Reynalda now.

If that man had remained faithful, Mom would still be alive.

"I'm sorry, sis…" Raymond sighed. "But that'll never happen."

"I know, I just…" She couldn't finish her sentence. Instead she opted to squeeze her bed sheets as she pondered the thought in her mind. If only… if only…

"On another note," Raymond forced himself to smile as Raymond raised his bag of DVDs. "I borrowed some the new documentary this time."

"Really?" Reynalda's eyes sparkled, willing to forget the conversation that happened only a couple of seconds ago. "Is it—?"

"Yes sister, it's about space." He smiled as he went over to the television set and inserted the disk. The film immediately began to play and the first thing to appear was the moving picture of the Milky Way Galaxy.

"Oh my God! I could kiss you now!"

"I rather not." Raymond grinned.

Seriously, she was so obsessed with space and all the things associated with it. In fact, the only reason she agreed to duel him when he was little was because he agreed to let her lecture him about all the planets of the solar system and the stars well beyond man's reach. She even got a telescope which she used every night to gaze on the stars way past bedtime.

It was their little secret when their parents thought they actually slept after bedtime.

She would make him stay watch every Friday and Saturday night to look out for any aliens that might accidentally blow their cover. Of course, even at his age, he knew aliens didn't exist. Although if he confessed the truth back then, Reynalda would've never played with him ever again.

The telescope was still in their house after all these years; a birthday gift from Mom's first and only husband.

Raymond sat back down next to her. She never took her eyes off the screen, but she cozied up to him, using his warmth as an enchantment to daze her into the immersion. As he took the journey with her, the space around him felt like they've transformed into the void of space. Just seemingly flying among the stars until he realized they were not stars, but galaxies each containing millions, billions, and even trillions of stars, most of which have their own planets and celestial bodies orbiting around.

It truly revealed a sense of scale how small humanity were.

As the two delve deeper into the galaxies, individual dots emerged from the chaos, and they began to realize what one trillion stars actually looked like. A fraction of an overwhelming sensation arose, that somehow everything in the universe was connected. National boundaries completely vanished, coupled with the realization that the world was incredibly fragile.

When he looked back at her, he found the galaxy reflecting perfectly in her eyes.

"You enjoy the show," Raymond rose from his chair. "I'm going to make a call."

After gently closing the door behind, he sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He wanted to just slowly slouch to the floor instead of standing, but he didn't. Maintaining his composure wasn't easy, neither was walking to the waiting room and inserting coins into a pay phone as he dialed the number written on a piece of paper.

"Come on, answer it, you little—"

"You have reached the voicemail of 'Richard Ramsey', please leave a message after the beep."

Ramsey. It still bothered him that the man changed his last name. What kind of person does that in an attempt to escape his past? Had he not at least some dignity to own up to what he did!? The man did not understand even the concept of shame! Or was it the surname of the woman who snared her claws into his balls? He must be so emasculated to let her strip him of his role as a man and as the head of a family. No doubt it was one final icing on the cake, to salt the wound on his mother's heart.

And the Goddamn voicemail again! It was always his voicemail! Not once did he bothered to answer the phone. He tried calling his business number, his personal number, heck, even that home number of his California mansion. Nothing worked.

"It's Raymond. You listen close and you listen really good." Raymond started ranting immediately after the beep. "I'm going to say this as much as I need to, just like the past seven times I've tried calling you: Reynalda is going to die. She's sick, she's in the hospital right now, and the doctors can't help her because they're too fucking incompetent. But I've found a U.S. hospital that can treat her, maybe even cure her, but I don't have the money. And don't you dare pull some bullshit about how you don't have the money either; I doubt being the CEO of some major corporation leaves you dirt poor."

Raymond breathed out a sigh. If he didn't, then the pay phone would've found itself smashed out of order. Plus, he found himself just a little bit calmer. "Now I know that you want nothing to do with us, but at least acknowledge that she was once your daughter. If you didn't get my previous messages, I'll say it again: she's at Quebec General. And… she doesn't hold the same grudge as I do."

Raymond refused to elaborate.

"Good bye."

He hung up.

Just as unreliable as ever. He had some hope that the man would at least have some sort of responsibility to his former family, but alas, he had hoped too much. He could not be thinking clearly if he thought a man who never came back to visit would come back ever.

As the only man left in the household, he must find another solution. But the fact that he himself couldn't do anything wasn't going to change anytime soon. He needed a miracle to happen.

It was then he saw a sign leading to a chapel.

It was strange to see such a sign, as he never really paid much attention to it before. It was the moment he thought of the word miracle, there it appeared. For some reason, he thought he might be hallucinating for unexplained reasons. But when he reached and turned the corner, he dispelled such notions as the hospital indeed had a built-in chapel.

It was small, of course. There were only two columns of chairs on each side of the center walkway, which both contained five chairs per column, giving it a grand total of ten chairs in the room. The altar was extremely small as well compared to the normal altars he would see whenever he passed by the open doors of his local church. It was only about a yard long and held two unlit candles with a shroud covering the surface.

Jesus Christ was crucified at the center.

He felt awkward to say the least. After all he had said about the Abrahamic God, he felt like someone who relentless insulted someone over the internet and then having absolutely nothing to say when he had to meet them face-to-face. Yes, that was exactly what was happening.

But he did wish for a miracle…

"Who would want to believe in a kind of asshole who takes kids away from families because someone believes something else? Not me."

Raymond knelt down.

"I'm submitting; are You happy? I admit defeat."

 _"Monsters should not be worshipped. If you are worshipping a kid killer and abuser, then you're a really messed-up person."_

It was so easy to say those things when things went his way. Maybe it was because that he was left with no father at the age of five, did he started to blame his problems on anything—anyone—but himself. Even after Mom had died, he refused to change his mind.

 _"Why would a perfect God need worship of any kind, other than to satisfy his own ego?"_

Come on, he should look at himself. He's been fighting and dislocating jaws since he was fourteen. Even after Mom and his sister found out, he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. The smell of money was too alluring.

 _"Yes, the all-loving, all-powerful God torturing an innocent girl to death because her brother doesn't believe in Him. Exactly. Fucking idiots."_

"I don't suppose You've conveniently forgotten everything I've said before, have you?" He bit his lips. The things he said in the past now coming back to hinder his chances. He wanted to just lash out, completely wreck the chapel as he would give this imaginary being exactly the treatment it deserved.

But nothing good would come out of that. At best, he would be arrested for public vandalism; at worst, he might actually find out for himself that God exists and just how wrathful He could be other than in his mother's Bible.

 _"Believers are some of the most shallow, pathetic people on this planet."_

"I suppose not…" Raymond hung his head. "And I suppose I'm in no positions to make demands, am I?"

 _"If 'God' is too much of a coward to confront me directly and chooses to go after my sister instead, it's beyond me why anyone would worship Him."_

"But Mom believed in You." He affirmed. "You remember her, don't you? The lady who spent every Sunday helping out in Your churches. The young woman who went as a missionary to countries where kids couldn't afford education and people who almost starved to death. Remember how many lives she helped. Surely, You have to give that credit when credit is due."

 _"If you rely on a fairy tale to get your life together, you are in need of a lobotomy."_

"I don't expect You to do this for me, but please, do it for her. Consider everything that she did in Your name, even after You let a temptress destroy her marriage. She kept her faith to You."

 _"God helps those who help themselves. Therefore, help yourself. There is no God. Weaklings cling to a god when they have no hope left."_

"Give me a chance to save her."

Raymond paused. For all his talk of ditheism if there really was a deity… he had no words to describe it. He was going against everything he believed in. Once he said the words to seal his confessions, there was no going back. If he turned out to be right all along but still bent the knee to a man-made concept, there would be nothing, but disgrace left for him to return to. But if he was wrong…

"I'm opening my heart up here… I'm willing to accept you into my heart and praise Your name…" Raymond paused. He took a deep breath. This was not easy. Not easy at all. "Heck, I'll dedicate my whole life to You."

A tinge of instant regret shook him out of his prayer.

"What the hell am I doing?" He got up from his knees. "This is stupid."

Something caught the corner of his eyes as he was about to walk out. On the second chair of the right column, a pamphlet was sticking out from the corner. Normally, he wouldn't care for things like that; he ignored those people standing out in the sun handing out flyers all the time. But this one was special. He recognized the logo that was on it.

Curious, he walked over and picked it up. It was exactly the logo he thought it was.

"'Yu-Gi-Oh!' TCG Exclusive Tournament?" He read out-loud. "Attention duelists, Konami Entertainment of North America is hosting this unique tournament experience. In the spirit of celebrating our twentieth anniversary of the launch of this popular card game, we have decided to host a Duelist Kingdom theme tournament with some of the most memorable and iconic things that happened in the original 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' anime!"

Next to it was a pack of cards. More specially, it was addressed to someone named 'Dash Brohan'. Opening it, he found three cards inside. A 'Set Sail for The Kingdom' card, a 'Duelist Kingdom' card and a 'Glory of the Kong's Hand' card. Obviously, they couldn't be used in duels; its text read so on the bottom part. But there was some text on the bottom box as well. 'Used for Twentieth Anniversary Celebration'.

"To fully replicate the Duelist Kingdom in the anime and manga, entry to this tournament will only be allowed by showing the 'Duelist Kingdom' card. So, it's very important that you do not lose it. There will be no registration before showing the card and deck lists are only required after the first phase of the tournament is over."

Raymond skipped the boring stuff, mostly because of the repetitiveness.

"Third place shall win an opportunity to work alongside our best card designers to create an incredible custom card of an archetype of their choice. Second place will have the added prize of winning a week-long vacation for two at the Tropical Caribbean. First place will be crowned as this year's King of Games, as well as the previous prizes mentioned but with the addition of three million dollars as prize money just as in the anime. Hurry, spots are—"

Wait a second. WAIT A SECOND.

THREE MILLION DOLLARS?

THREE MILLION DOLLARS!?

That was just a little bit more than enough to pay for the operation, transport and hospital stays combined! The thought of even having a little more money left to save for the future! He could never need to work ever again! Or he could start his own business!

And to top it off, he could take her on a free, all-expenses-paid vacation to celebrate her recovery!

Wouldn't Reynalda be happy!? Wouldn't she be glad to see how he won not only her cure, but also winning a bright future they could take hold in their hands!? They could finally make something of themselves instead of slaving away for someone to get the glory!

Wouldn't he make Mom proud?

Raymond snapped his gaze back at the crucifix. Jesus Christ looked different; Jesus looked resurrected.

This settled it. This was the answer to his prayer.

"I will honor what I've said."

He would win that tournament.

He needed to.

He was destined to.

* * *

 **I just want to say this now so that anyone who does actually enjoy this would not be disappointed: I have no schedule for this fan fiction. Life always tend to get in the way. On the times it isn't, procrastination usual competes for my time. Therefore, this story is only planned for under 10-15 chapters. Hopefully, I can finish it as soon as possible.**

 **Also, if you like to know how the main two characters look like, check out my Deviantart page! Same user name! I'm the one who did the cover art for The Beacon Civil War and Relic of the Future by Coeur Al'Aran, The Knight of Lancaster by College Fool, What Embers Remain by A Stereotypical Gamer, etc.**

 **Side note: This is also ALL FIRST DRAFT. This is fan fiction, I'm not going to make any money off of this anyway.**

* * *

 **11/13/2018**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for favoriting this story, MajorBrony95! To be honest, I didn't expect anyone to be following this story, let alone adding it to their favorites! I'm grateful that someone decided that this was something worth reading!**

 **So again, thank you!**

* * *

Another car passed him by as Raymond stood there on the side of the road with his thumbs up.

Contrary to popular belief, Canadians weren't that nice. Proof? That was the fifteenth car that ignored the hitch-hiker who was packing a large camping backpack, filled with snacks, drinks, his folded bed, a tent, and so much more. All the stuff from his family camping trip to the Jasper National Park weighed him down more as more as the hours went by while Raymond took no rest. He couldn't take a rest, not when the tournament date was so close on the calendar.

To be fair, that was a family car. Nobody sane was going to put their family in needless risk by picking up a hitchhiker, potentially some psychopathic murderer. Of course, he's not one, but how would they know? His physic looked like a rough fighter who could withstand a series of heavy, metal, baseball bats beating on him.

Because he did. And that's how he first learned how to counter melee weapons during the fights after that.

It was bright and hot out too; a consequence of the coming summer heat. So, there he was, out walking in the clear sky with no shade and sweating profusely, cause his body odor to be noticeable, even by his nose. Considering how desensitized to body odor he was due to using the locker room each time after he finished a fight, it must be really worse than it smelled like.

Ironic, because Quebec was usually pretty chilly, even in the summer. It's like the weather itself today decided to screw with him by changing the normal pattern and prove the forecast predictions wrong.

He overestimated himself. He didn't do so at first, he planned to ride a bike all the way from Montreal to the American border. But when he remembered he sold it to cover Reynalda's expenses, he figured that he was at least fit enough to simply walk all the way. He wasn't arrogant to think it would be effortless.

Needless to say, that was way easier said than done. Sure, he knew that it would likely take the whole day, but the feeling of walking in his mind versus actual walking as far too detached. Fighting and running had almost nothing to do with each other, and for him to have thought that just because he was in shape, didn't mean he could do something he never bothered practicing before.

There were some roads he had to tirelessly climb, other roads he thankfully dived right down without much effort. This was neither; a completely flat surface. A stallion he was, to have made it this far and not needing to take a rest. His backpack weighed as much as a person riding him, as the extra provisions were as the armor knights wore that weighed down their horses even more.

Now that he thought about it, how did horses support the cavalry? Not only did they needed to be extremely fast for use in combat, but they suffered the same problem he was having: not getting tired by the weight on his back. It'd make much more sense if knights rode chariots instead, as all the horses needed to do was pull, easier when it was on wheels.

By that logic, he really should've bought or asked for a wagon. But every penny count, and it wasn't guaranteed he would even win the first match, let alone the tournament. Everything he was carrying was either something his family already owned, or he took it from charity.

 _"Mommy, why can't I get it?"_

 _"Because it's to help those in need, Raymond. God would want that, don't you think?"_

 _"But there's always going to be poor people, Mommy. Why can't God just do it Himself?"_

 _"Because then we'll never learn how to be good people, sweetie. You'll understand when you get older."_

Understood he did. When he finally swallowed his pride and went to his mother's church, they remembered who she was and did what they could to help out. Her former friends still attended to this day, and none of them refused his plea.

Maybe most of them did it because they feared Hell and wanted Heaven, but that didn't change the fact that they did good things. The kids his mother helped in third-world countries didn't care if she had an agenda to spread Christianity or wanted to do it out of the goodness of her heart, and Raymond didn't care if her congregation helped it out of obligatory to God or to their ego.

That would probably the closest way he'd admit he was wrong about church-goers.

The checkpoint was within sight. The forest was blocking the view, but he could still see part of it. Not the mention the two flagpoles waving furiously in the wind. For a second, he thought that was impossible, but then it clicked in him that the other trees were blocking the wind from ever touch him. He must be so worn out to forget such simple thing.

And then he fell.

The knowledge that his first destination was close enough that it zapped his strength out of his legs. It kept telling him that he could rest for a little now. Five minutes at most; five minutes was something he could afford in the grand scheme of things, was it? Didn't need to pick himself up, just lying on the dirty and empty road, disregarding the potential passing cars who may think he was dead.

Five minutes turned ten. It was amazing how time slowed down whenever he was walking or doing anything he didn't like, but the second he tried to do something he did like, time sped up like it was on caffeine. Ten minutes though, it still wasn't that long of a rest time, was it? He could afford ten minutes.

Maybe he should add just five minutes more. After all, five extra minutes couldn't possibly—

Raymond slapped himself.

No. He was not doing this. This was exactly how it would start. Little things always grew big; it was a fact of life. One more drink of alcohol, one more joint of marijuana, one more syringe, they all shared the common source. Could not, would not, let the source control him. He must control it.

He was doing this for her. Never forget that.

By sheer willpower, he carried himself and his backpack up and continued walking. Just one more mile.

* * *

America looked just about the same as Canada, only with some minor differences. Trees were the same, the mountains looked the same, roads were the same. One of the two must've ripped off from the other.

A key component, however, was that he actually managed to get a few people to hitchhike with. Of course, he didn't expect to share the same destination the drivers were, but he was thankful nevertheless that they got him as close as possible.

If he could remember correctly, the last person had dropped him off in Albany, New York's capital. That was around five hours ago. It's now should be around five in the morning; he had to camp out for a few hours of sleep, hoping no one would report him to the police. American must be different in some way. Again, he was on the road, looking for another person to hitchhike with.

Would it have it been better and easier to just have bought a ticket and skip this entire ridiculous process? Yes. No arguing about that. But being a cheapskate was an inherent part of his life, even if it sometimes clouded his judgement. For example, overestimating the amount of generous people. There may be a little here and there, but compared to the thousands, they were almost insufficient.

As another car passed him by, he gave up another little bit of hope. The same hope was what was giving his legs some stability. They were begging to rest, already showing signs of fatigue and shaking profusely as they tried to continuously support his upper body. Funny how he could trick his legs into thinking the destination was closer than it actually was. Guess it was true when people say an inch most definitely would become a mile.

With each single step he took, he began thinking more and more on how this was a mistake… counting on the generosity of other people. He should've just bought a ticket. This would be all for nothing if he wasn't going to make it to the tournament in the first place. How stupid for him to think he could make this journey on foot.

Wait… was he repeating himself? Didn't he just have the same thoughts a few seconds ago? The stress must be really getting to him.

He gave into his legs and fell face-forward. Not completely however, as he was more kneeling than laying. In the perfect position, in fact, to grovel for more help. Almost as if this was an intentional move from an invisible hand.

Raymond sighed. He hated doing this again.

"Oh God…" Raymond prayed. Think he might've bitten his tongue for a second. "Send me a little bit more of help here…"

"Hey!" A man rode up to Raymond on a motorcycle. "You alright?"

Raymond lazily turned around, inspecting the man who called out to him.

Where the hell was this direct line to Heaven all this time!? Why wasn't it working before in his life!?

First thing Raymond noticed was the brown leather jacket the man was wearing and the black gloves that was on the handles. He was wearing a helmet with goggles over it, so Raymond couldn't pick up any distinct facial features except his unprotected mouth. The man had his own backpack, which looked to be stuffed to the fullest extent possible.

At a better look, it was more of a scooter than a motorcycle. The wheels were smaller and there was enough room of two people to ride on it. A medium-sized tail trunk attached to the, well, tail.

"I'm fine." Raymond replied.

"You don't look so fine." The man said before Raymond could add any more. He was definitely right about that part, however. "Where are you going? Maybe I can hitch you a ride there."

Speak of the devil… or maybe praise the LORD. Whichever was more appropriate for this situation. "You happen to be heading towards New York City?"

"Holy crap!" The man bellowed. "You're going to New York City and you plan to walk there!?"

"No!" Raymond quickly defended himself to make himself look less of an idiot. Wait, he shouldn't care; they're both going to forget each other after a day. "I was planning to hitchhike there."

"I didn't see you trying to flag anyone down or anything."

Which shouldn't matter by now. It already got the man to stop. "I was only tired of having my arm hanging in the air, that's all."

"Well… I guess hop on!" The man said. He was cheerful, which was not a bad thing on its own, but it also tended to come with pointless and intrusive questions. But the man's voice sounded like a young person though, so Raymond doubted he could hold a conversation for long. Everybody in his generation was so accustomed to their smartphones.

"Sure." Raymond agreed. He tried to get up and… it… uh… didn't budge. Raymond tried again. Close, but no cigar. Raymond turned his head to the man, lips tightened. "This is embarrassing…"

"What is?" The man was oblivious.

"My legs… they're too tired to get up." Raymond covered his face. "And I've got a heavy backpack…"

"Oh…" The man realized. He parked his scooter and got off, right after he double checked he stayed clear out of the road. Then, he took his helmet and goggles off. He was indeed a young man, someone who looked even younger than Raymond himself. He was high school aged, but neither freshman or sophomore.

There was something about him that set Raymond off, something in his eyes. He didn't want to feel this way towards a man he just met, and a man who was at this time helping him, but Raymond couldn't resist it. It was as plain as day, the one thing reflecting off of the man's eyes.

Naivety. Goddamn naivety.

Raymond hated naivety.

"Oh boy, you're a heavy guy!" The man grunted as he knelt down besides Raymond and tried picking him up from under his shoulder. Probably the hardest grunt Raymond had ever heard somebody trying so hard for such a long time. It became clear to Raymond that this man was not somebody who liked working out, if the struggling wasn't obvious enough.

"You know what? I'll just lift your bag so you can walk." He gave up so soon, but not unexpected because he was trying to carry the weight of both Raymond and his backpack; that wasn't very smart of him. That wasn't to say that lifting his backpack was easy either. "Geez, what do you have in here?"

"A lot of camping stuff." Raymond answered, slowly walking towards the scooter as the man carried behind him.

"Camping?" Raymond could feel the man raising an eyebrow. "In New York City? Wouldn't you want to stay more upstate for that?"

"I just like to be prepared." Raymond crossed his leg over to the other side as his backpack sat on the tail trunk while still strapped to his person. He hoped it was not empty, because otherwise it'd be a lot of pressure pushing down on the empty case. "First time going to the city."

"Well, okay…" The man shrugged after putting his helmet and goggles back on, then reversing his own backpack to wear on his front. "I can tell you that you don't need that much stuff, but okay."

Raymond squeezed himself as much as possible up to the tail trunk, leaving a comfortable amount of space for the driver. If he gotten ruder than he already was, that'd be an insult to both his mother's teachings and his sister's face.

 _"You don't have to tell Mom! Please keep it a secret!"_

 _"Raymond! This is unacceptable! Just because Mom's distraught, you think you can do bad things behind her back! Give me that cigarette, young man!"_

 _"Damn bro, too bad your hot sister's such a bitch."_

 _"And you shut up! I don't ever want you close to Raymond ever again! And Raymond!"_

 _"The hell you slapped me for!?"_

 _"Is this what Mom raised you as!? Is this what I raised you as!? You are never going to be friends with the likes of this moron ever again! Or do you want to be even worse than Dad!?"_

He could feel the slap on his face as if it were only a couple of seconds as he recalled his regrets. What an entitled punk he was back then. Perhaps he still was.

"So, what's your name?" The man asked. It took Raymond back to the real world and he noticed that the scooter was running, by the speed of the passing landscape. Of course, they were moving as fast as a motorcycle, or even the cars, but it was a fine speed. "Dylan's the name and the ladies like my game! You?"

Dylan tried to laugh at his own joke, in hopes that Raymond would laugh too. It didn't work. It died down moments later.

"Raymond." He answered.

"Nice name." Typical response. A curve forced the scooter to lean sideways, almost dropping Raymond right on the road had he not grabbed onto Dylan's waist before that could happen. It was a forceful grab, jolting Dylan's from his seat; Raymond didn't mean it, but he nevertheless held on until the curve passed. "Oh, careful there."

"Thanks." He wasn't sure if it was polite to maintain his hands on Dylan's waist. On one hand, it'd be safer for both him and anybody driving behind him; on the other hand, it felt like inappropriate touching on another person, especially when that person was another man. Raymond could bet that he was one of the majority of men who felt that way.

"So, where you from?"

Ah, so he was the chatty type. If Raymond counted correctly, he was the fourth person to ask that question. Albeit, a common question. "Canada."

"Oh Canada?" Dylan nodded. At least, that was assuming he nodded from Raymond's angle. It was extremely difficult to move his head out to the side to check when the wind would blow all kinds of particles into his eyes, blinding him. "How is it there?"

"Peachy." Raymond caught himself midway that he was giving off a put-offish vibe and fixed his attitude to be the instigator. "You're probably guessing why I'm visiting."

"Hey! I was thinking that!" Dylan cheered. "You must be a psychic!"

Ha! Now that was funny. Raymond, the absolute skeptic that he was, being a money-grabbing fraud who have no conscious on preying upon the most emotionally vulnerable. Such a shame that people would still believe in hocus-pocus mind tricks. He would rather die than to be one of—

Oh. Right.

He should probably stop digging himself a deeper hole.

"There's a tournament going on in New York City and I like to get in." Raymond said.

"Oh?" The tree was getting more and more spaced out; the both of them could see farther out. "What kind?"

"It's… uh…" Raymond didn't know how to say it without sounding childish. "It involves cards."

"Like… trading cards?" Why did Dylan sound a little hopeful?

"Yes…" God, that was painful to admit.

"Oh my God…" Dylan gasped. "Is it Yu-Gi-Oh!?"

Here it comes. Raymond mentally prepared himself for the mockery. A full-fledged man still playing a children's card game; there was no way to twist it any other way. Heck, he would mock himself if he was any other person.

"I'm a duelist too!"

What?

"What kind of deck do you play?" Dylan's eyes sparkled. Raymond could tell his eyes sparkled because HOLY SHIT HE WAS TURNING HIS HEAD ASIDE TO LOOK AT HIM!

"WHOA WHOA WHOA!" Raymond panicked and shouted, pointing forward. "WATCH THE ROAD!"

"OHMYGODIAMSOSORRY!" Dylan blurted out. Instantly snapped his neck back to focusing on the road. They were a few seconds away from being roadkill when they almost drove off and slammed right into the tree. "Sorry, I just always get really excited that I get to meet a fellow Duelist!"

"Can you not do that when we're riding on a moving vehicle!?" Raymond chastised.

"I'm really sorry about that…" Dylan cringed. "But never mind that; do you have tag partner?"

"A tag what now?"

"You know, a tag partner? The first two days will be a tag team single duel, then the last day will be regular matches. That's why you aren't required to submit a deck list until the final day, because you'll definitely be facing your tag team partner who knows your deck inside out." Dylan slowed down, due to the now increasing traffic as they drew closer to the city. Raymond could see the silhouettes of the infamous twin towers from a distance. "Don't tell me you didn't know that?"

"No…" Raymond admitted. "I didn't."

"Whoa, do you know anything about this tournament?"

"It's more of a spur of the moment; the invitation was passed down to me because the last guy can't make it." Raymond chose his words carefully; it was not a lie, but not exactly the truth either. Judging by Dylan's character so far, Raymond couldn't risk him telling the judges and having him disqualified.

"Well… you want to be my tag partner?"

Raymond raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you already have one if you know you're going to a tag-team tournament?"

"I was planning on the organizers pairing me up with another guy who also doesn't have a partner because… uh… my personal reasons." They were now on a bridge. Not a typical bridge Raymond was used to back in Quebec, but an incredibly busy bridge at that. Cars were surrounding them, no more than a couple of yards apart.

"That seems chaotic for an officially organized tournament."

"With three mill as the prize?" Dylan chuckled. "Got to weed out the people as quickly as possible somehow; not just on who wins and loses."

Raymond had nothing to say on that. Dylan was right, if the first-place prize was three million dollars, then of course there would be a ton of people wanting to try their luck, and he doubted anyone would have the time to duel over perhaps three thousand people in a single day in the traditional fashion.

"We should call each other by our last names." Dylan interjected.

"Why?"

"Because it'll be much cooler that way! You ever wonder why no one calls Kaiba by his first name? Because Seto is a lame name!"

"Are you saying my name is lame?"

"Uh… well… no… it's just… I mean…" Dylan stuttered. "Raymond's a… uh… great name! I'm just sure that a guy like you has an awesome last name!"

That should've offended him. Raymond knew that Dylan had no knowledge that his last name was still the surname of a man whom he himself abandoned. But it didn't. There was something about Dylan's little screw-up that lifts his spirit up. To be fair, it was mostly just an effort to be kind in public.

"You can call me Novak." His mother's maiden name. He refused to be known as the son of an uncommitting bastard.

"Sweet! I'm Trudeau then!"

"The Canadian Prime Minister?" Dylan better not share hypocrisy, the castration, and the idiocy as well. "I didn't know you were related."

"Holy! Your Prime Minister is also Trudeau?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "I didn't know that."

"Well, the more you know." Raymond said flippantly. Most people would call someone like Dylan a moron for not knowing that, but for someone who had no interest in politics, it was a reasonable thing to not know. Raymond himself didn't know any of the names of countries in Africa, except for Egypt and South Africa, and he couldn't care any less to learn them.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Dylan proclaimed. "We're going to be the top dogs!"

Hopefully, they would be. They needed to be. As the two drove deeper into the city of loud traffic, colossal skyscrapers overshadowing any human, and hordes of people going to and from, Raymond readied himself. He took one look at Dylan's back, knowing full well he would eventually need to stab it.

* * *

"Welcome to Yu-Gi-Oh, Duelist Kingdom!" The announcer spoke into the microphone, which in turn echoed throughout the entire stadium through the speakers. By stadium, he didn't mean any type of conventional stadium; there were no playfields nor any audience seating. It was just rows and rows of tables and chairs lined up with a stage in the center, where the announcer was standing. It was the sheer size of the interior that made Raymond describe it as a stadium. And let himself repeat himself:

It. Was. Massive.

So, imagine his surprise when he still felt the little space he had as he pushed through the indeed hordes of crowds standing around, waiting for their duels. He didn't say it, but most of them had excess luggage. And by excess luggage for some of the most, he meant how big they were. Not big in the same way Raymond was, who cut an imposing figure amongst almost everyone despite his poor outfit; they were big as in having way too much chips and sodas.

There were some people who were allowed to skip the queues and not worry about all the people fighting for space. Lucky them.

"Please, if you have not received the number to which table you are assigned to, please go to the front deck and receive it now!" The announcer continued. "Duels will be beginning in ten minutes!"

Raymond squeezed through the crowd, pushing around other people with his backpack sticking out like a sore thumb. They were irritated, but once they've saw just how physically outmatched, they would be if they confront him, they backed off.

"So, you excited?" Dylan followed behind. It was now that they were both standing that Raymond found out that Dylan was shorter than him, albeit not that much, but it was still much shorter than he anticipated. One hand was holding a bag of chips, the other was reaching down inside it and grabbing a piece to eat.

"No. I'm nervous."

"Don't fret; I'll be excited for the both of us!" Dylan patted his backpack, trying to infect Raymond with his cheery mood. Laughter was contagious after all. "I'm sure that we'll be able to win our first day!"

Did it make him a bad person when Raymond found himself repulsed by Dylan's optimism? Maybe it had to do with the fact that he brought with him only one deck, and definitely an outdated one at that. Why he even bothered to come here when he knew the chances of him winning were lower than being struck by lightning was a question beyond him. The deck was a fun casual one he used to play with his friends and his family, it was never built to win anything.

After coming all this way, he was having second thoughts. The only reason he even traveled here was because on this fringe chance that the God his mom praised so highly was not only real, but also with him, that He was willing to overlook all of Raymond's utter rejection for his mom's sake. Now, he was even less sure. At best, there was really no God. At worse, this was all one sick joke.

"You want some?" Dylan held out his bag, which were already halfway finished. "I don't plan on finishing it."

He should say no… Raymond had already asked way too much of Dylan; first a ride and then his partnership. But after all this way, he was hungry.

"Sure." Raymond took the bag, reached in, grabbing a handful, and started stuffing it down his face. Oh, how he was so hungry…

Dylan then pulled out his hamburger, packed with double meat, vegetables, and sauce. As he began biting down on it, Raymond felt—only a little—that he had gotten a bad deal. Slow-motion kicked in; Raymond's mind raced with imaginary flavor. The sweet and savory taste of a chicken twisted and crushed with cruelty. Like a carnivore, he carved that delicious, blood mouth, carnist food. His stomach was a graveyard; no living being could quench his bloodthirst. He would swallow his enemies whole, especially when they're Kentucky fried.

"I think this is our table, Novak." Raymond was snapped out of his drooling session. Dylan pointed at the table with the same number as the one Raymond was holding in his hand. There was no one else on the table, unlike many other which already had men sitting across from them, chatting about what normal guys would talk about. They both took a seat on the same side, patiently waiting for their opponents.

There was also a camera attached to the ceiling. In fact, now that Raymond had looked up, there were rows of cameras on top, each aligning to the tables they were assigned to. Those cameras better have some high resolution and incredible zoom distance, because the ceiling was damn high. Damn high.

"You know, maybe we can come up with some awesome tag team combos while we're waiting." Dylan suggested, with his deck already out on the table.

It was easy for him because his deck box was strapped to his belt, like an anime duelist would. Unlike Raymond however, he had to dig through his cluster of a backpack to find his deck. Eventually, he had to empty his stuff onto the table to get his deck. The deck laid on the table as he put things back, but he never took his eyes off of it, fearing it might be stolen.

"I'm playing Cyber Dragons, how about you?"

"Galaxy-Eyes."

"Oh, this is double sweet! I was worried that you were playing some kind of deck where we would have no synergy at all, but not only are we both Light players, but our decks can play as hybrids!"

"No kidding?" Raymond answered flatly.

"So what kind of Galaxy-Eyes? Beat-down? Control? Fusion FTK?" Dylan's eyes were sparkling again. Man, the dude really loved card games, didn't he? "You know, I have a friend that plays Tachyon Dragons; maybe you and him can meet up sometime in the future and duel."

"Uh… I don't know what you're talking about." And by how abruptly shaken the terms off almost like he didn't understand them—because he didn't—Dylan saw more and more just how much of a novice Raymond really was.

"Novak…" Dylan was suspicious and curious. "How many tournaments have you been in before?"

"Two." He lied. Had he said the truth, he would've given away the advantage that he had. Experience implied that he couldn't be tricked, and so Dylan shouldn't even bother. Dylan may seem nice enough, but there was no way he was putting that much trust in a man he just met today. "I just don't bother learning the names of combos or whatever you call it."

"Okay…" Dylan wasn't satisfied, though he didn't press for more. "I was just wondering since there's quite a lot of things you don't seem to know."

"Like I said, I don't bother with it."

Dylan shrugged. "Well okay, not going to judge."

"I think we still have time to strategize before our duel starts." Dylan handed over his deck to Raymond. "Let me see your deck and you can see mine."

Could he? Should he? Wouldn't it just crumble down the lie he just told a few seconds ago? That was right, he—

Dylan's hands moved faster than Raymond anticipated. Of all the times his reflexes failed him, it was this time. Could've been worse, could have been in one of his illegal fights instead and could have gotten him killed. Maybe it was rather a fortune to miss it here than to miss it in the unknown future, a warning for him to sharpen his senses once again.

"You've never been to a tournament, have you?" Dylan said after finishing his analysis on his deck. "No one is going to construct a deck this bad."

"Yeah, this is my first tournament." Raymond sighed. The cat was out of the bag. Raymond's face was downcast. He imagined Dylan disappointed with him, that he lied to get his hopes up. Probably shooting him a look of either disgust or contempt.

What he didn't expect was a smirk.

"It's okay." Dylan patted him on the shoulders. Then, Dylan pulled out a binder out of his backpack and flipped it open. "I have the cards to make it playable—no, competitive."

And thus, Dylan scrambled through his binder, replacing cards left and right with cards Raymond never seen before. He looked on with useless awe, as replacing cards was not a spectator friendly sight and he had no idea what cards Dylan was adding to his arsenal. He sped himself up, as it was a hassle to sleeve the cards back up. Should Raymond stop this? He was basically letting Dylan getting free information about his deck, but there was no way Dylan could make it any less worse. When Dylan was done, he handed the deck back to Raymond.

Raymond hates on blindly trusting people, but this time he had no choice.

"There, it should be great with all the new Galaxy-Eyes support I put in." Dylan dusted off his hands. "Go on, try—"

"Hello." A man greeted, sitting down on the opposite side of Raymond and Dylan's table. Another man followed, sitting by the first man. The first man was overweight, there was no going around that fact. The second man was skinny, like a stickman, except that the lines were bolder. The first man was balding; Raymond instantly felt pity for his inescapable fate. The second man was as hairy as a sheep that never sheared its wool. "You guys our opponents?"

"Well never mind; can't discuss strategy in front of them." Dylan sighed as he patted the table.

"Yes, I'm Novak and he's Trudeau." Raymond greeted back. He almost introduced them by their first names, but Dylan was right, their surnames sounded cooler. Even if it was Trudeau.

"Nice to meet you." The fat man held out his hand for a handshake. Raymond really didn't want to shake it, but out of respect for how low his chances were to carry on his genes to the next generation, Raymond shook it and didn't pulled out until the other man did. "I'm Arnold."

"I'm London." The other man too reached in for a handshake for Dylan. Dylan instantly wolfed down the remain piece of his hamburger. That was an incredible feat.

"Wait, your name is London?" Dylan couldn't help but crack a chuckle as he shook his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

"No, it's okay." The other man brushed off. No hint of Britishness in his accent whatsoever. "I get that a lot."

"So, where you guys from?" Dylan asked.

"New Jersey." They both answered. Arnold took the lead in the conversation. "We're from the same college."

College, huh? That meant they were older, which to their credit, Raymond would've never known based on their looks. They looked relatively young and close to his age.

"Nice!" Dylan carried on. "I'm from upstate and Novak here is from Canada!"

"From Canada, eh? How is it there?" Arnold started shuffling his deck. London followed suit and so did the rest of them. They exchange their decks for their opponents to cut and handed the deck back to their respective owners.

"Peachy." Raymond set up the board. Everyone but him had a playmat. What was interesting about the playmats was that it was different from what he remembered it as. All of them had some kind of red and blue backrow zones called 'Pendulum Zone' and a cut-off 'Extra Monster Zone' on the very top while the original monster zones were labeled as 'Main Monster Zone". It didn't take a genius to figure out that now monsters special summoned from the extra deck went to the extra monster zone while regular monsters went to the main monster zones.

It did arise a bunch of questions inside Raymond's mind, but he couldn't ask; he must think he had some experience in competitive tournaments.

"That's the same answer he gave me." Dylan laughed, not picking up the hint.

"Alright! Is everybody at their tables now?" The announcer's voice boomed from the speakers. "If you are not, then we are sorry! Duels will be beginning now!"

Raymond raised his head to look around. No one was standing around confused.

"Welcome to the first ever Yu-Gi-Oh tag team tournament, Duelist Kingdom! As it is our first tag team tournament, it'd be better if we go over the rules one more time!"

Oh, thank God, because Raymond needed that desperately.

"First is concerning the extra monster zones ruling! Both you and your partner are allowed to play on each other's extra monster zones and only those zones! What this means is if you want to special summon a monster from your extra deck, you can summon it to your partner's extra monster zone, but only after you zone is already occupied or made unusable by card effect!"

"Second is the graveyard! Although you do not physically share a graveyard with your partner, you are sharing it by gameplay mechanics! This also holds true for your banished cards and your combined field, but does not for your hand, deck, and extra deck!"

"Third! Limited and semi-limited cards are still counted per duelist! Even if you run a copy of Raigeki, your partner can still run one copy!"

"Fourth is sharing fields! Although you have your own five monster zones and five backrows, you can use spell and traps on your partners field as well as your partner's monsters. However, you may not play your own cards on your partner's field with exception to the extra monster zone I have discussed before and also, you may not declare an attack with your partner's monsters!"

"Fifth is life points! Each player will have their own life points! The team whose both players' life points hit zero loses! If your partner's life points hit zero, you can still play cards that are already on their field as well as their graveyard and banished cards but not their hand, deck, and extra deck!"

"The first player cannot draw on their first turn, nor can any player declare an attack on someone who has not had a turn! That means the player that goes last can attack everyone else! In addition, if there is a monster on the opponents' side of the field—in either duelist's monster card zones—then it must be attacked before an attack on their life points directly."

"And please!" The announcer put a lot of emphasis on the last one. "Please explain what each card does when you play them, even if it's Pot of Greed! No one can possibly know every card you are playing!"

"Those are the basics! If you have questions, feel free to call a judge!" The announcer finished off. "And now… IT'S TIME TO DUEL!"

"You guys ready?" Dylan was pumped up.

"Yeah, let's go." Arnold confirmed while London only nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Raymond said.

"Then let's duel!"

[TURN 1 Arnold LP/8000 Hand/5]

"I activate Gold Sarcophagus." Arnold began. "I banish one card from my deck and add it to my hand after the second standby phase."

Arnold waited for Raymond and Dylan. "Do you guys have a response?"

"No." They both said. And with that, Arnold drew two cards. How were they supposed to response when it was the very first turn of the duel? It wasn't like Raymond had any cards on the field to counter it.

"I banish Thunder Dragonroar from my deck. And when it's banished, I can special summon Thunder Dragondark."

[DEF Thunder Dragondark: DARK LV/5 Thunder/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1500]

"Oh great…" Dylan sarcastically sighed. "Thunder Dragons."

Arnold let out a chuckle. "Tired of seeing them?"

"Yep." Dylan answered. "I'm seeing them everywhere."

Raymond didn't understand anything that was going on, except that he could assume Thunder Dragons were going to be a problem. From his impression so far as he read the text, they were monsters whose primary abilities are most useful when banished or in the graveyard.

"I discard Thunder Dragonhawk from my hand to special summon my banished Thunder Dragonroar."

[ATK Thunder Dragonroar: DARK LV/6 Thunder/Effect ATK/2400 DEF/0]

"During the turn I activate a thunder-type monster's effect in my hand, I can tribute a non-effect thunder-type monster such as Thunder Dragondark to contact fusion Thunder Dragon Colossus."

[ATK Thunder Dragon Colossus: DARK LV/8 Thunder/Fusion/Effect ATK/2600 DEF/2400]

Okay. That was some overpowered bullshit. A twenty-six hundred beater fusion monster summoned with no fusion card and only one material? Give him a break. As he read on the card text, it shocked him even more. He can't add cards from his deck to his hand!? He glanced at his hand once more, not knowing what he was supposed to do with them.

"When Thunder Dragondark is sent from the field to the grave, I can add a Thunder Dragon card from my deck to my hand. I add Thunder Dragon to my hand. Then, by discarding Thunder Dragon, I can add two more."

Arnold was clearly a threat. Not only was he essentially locking Raymond's entire deck out from searching, he was also replenishing his hand with relative ease. All this without the help of drawing a card from the draw phase.

"I activate Instant Fusion to summon Kaminari Attack."

[TURN 1 Arnold LP/8000 — 7000 Hand/4]

[DEF Kaminari Attack: WIND LV/5 Thunder/Fusion ATK/1900 DEF/1400]

"By banishing my second Thunder Dragon from my hand and Kaminari Attack, I contact fusion Thunder Dragon Titan."

[ATK Thunder Dragon Titan: LIGHT LV/10 Thunder/Fusion/Effect ATK/3200 DEF/3200]

"And with that, I end my turn."

[TURN 1 Arnold LP/7000 Hand/3]

This was bad. Everything in his hand was unplayable. If he didn't draw one good card, then this duel would be over before he could even have a chance. He could not afford a loss. His hand had to push through the thick yet imaginary barrier to reach his deck. What if he couldn't draw the right card?

"Novak, do you want me to go first instead?" Dylan said, noticing Raymond's hesitation.

"Yes." Raymond exhausted a tense breath he didn't know he was holding. "Please."

"I won't let us down." Dylan gave him a thumbs-up. "This will be a piece of cake; I draw!"

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

"I normal summon Cyber Dragon Core which allows me to add a Cyber spell or trap card from my deck to my hand!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Core: LIGHT LV/2 Machine/Effect ATK/400 DEF/1500]

"Oh shit…" Arnold groaned. "Cyber Dragons…"

"The tables have turned!" Dylan let out a chuckle. "You have a response?"

"Yep." Arnold interrupted. "I discard Ash Blossom & Joyous Spring to negate you effect! Then, I discard Thunder Dragonmaxtrix to give five hundred more attack points to Thunder Dragon Colossus."

[ATK Thunder Dragon Colossus: DARK LV/8 Thunder/Fusion/Effect ATK/2600 — 3100 DEF/2400]

"Then, when a thunder-type monster's effect is activated in the hand, I can destroy one card on the field. I destroy Cyber Dragon Core."

Dylan seemed unfazed by that.

"You do realize that's not going to stop my Megafleet, right?"

"Eh," Arnold conceded. "Worth a shot."

"If I control no monsters in my main monster zone, I can special summon Cyber Dragon Novus from my hand by sending one light machine-type monster from my deck to the graveyard."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Novus: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"If this card is special summoned, I can special summon one Cyber light machine-type monster from my graveyard, if I do, I can make it become level five. So please welcome the Cyber Dragon Verstarkung I sent from my deck!"

[DEF Cyber Dragon Verstarkung: LIGHT LV/3 — 5 Machine/Tuner/Effect ATK/500 DEF/2100]

"And in turn, when Cyber Dragon Verstarkung is normal or special summoned, I can special summon one Cyber Dragon monster from my deck or grave in defense position, and if I do, I can make it level five! I summon Cyber Dragon Herz!"

[DEF Cyber Dragon Herz: LIGHT LV/1 — 5 Machine/Effect ATK/100 DEF/100]

"And let's not forget that all of my Cyber Dragon monsters' names become Cyber Dragon while on the field or in the grave." Dylan then grabbed the Cyber Dragon Herz and Cyber Dragon Verstarkung and sent them to the grave. A synchro summon? Weren't Cyber Dragons a fusion-based deck? What was a tuner doing in the archetype? "I link summon Cyber Dragon Sieger!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

"When Herz is sent to the grave, I can add a Cyber Dragon from my deck or grave, such as Verstarkung!" Dylan picked up his extra deck. Arnold sighed and began to move both his Titan and Colossus to the graveyard pile. What was going on? "I contact fuse Titan, Colossus, and my Novus to form Chimeratech Megafleet Dragon!"

[ATK Chimeratech Megafleet Dragon: DARK LV/5 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/0 — 3600 DEF/0]

Megafleet was summoned directly under Sieger, which coincidentally, was where one of Sieger's red arrows was pointing at. Dylan didn't use Raymond's extra monster zone unlike Arnold, which gave Raymond the idea that the arrows on link monsters can permit extra deck monsters to be summoned to the main monster zones.

"Megafleet attacks your Dragonroar!"

[TURN 2 Arnold LP/7000 — 5800 Hand/1]

"Sieger attack you directly!"

[TURN 2 Arnold LP/5800 — 3700 Hand/1]

"I set two cards face-down and end my turn." Dylan then clicked his tongue and finger-gunned London.

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 Hand/2]

That. Was. Amazing.

Not only did Dylan just cleared out Arnold's field of lock-down cards, but he also baited not one, but two cards out of Arnold's hand and still had plenty of cards to play. Raymond was starting to think partnering up with Dylan was a good idea after all. The free ride, the lent cards, and now skills at his disposal too? It was almost as if he was Godsent.

Maybe he was.

[TURN 3 London LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

"I first activate Dark Hole."

Now that was a card Raymond recognized from his days. Would forget a simple effect of destroying all monsters on the field?

"Well, there goes my monsters…" Dylan was still unfazed.

"I normal summon Fluffal Dog, then its effect adds Fluffal Wings."

[ATK Fluffal Dog: EARTH LV/4 Fairy/Effect ATK/1700 DEF/1000]

"I then activate Frightfur Patchwork to add Polymerization and Edge Imp Chain. Then, I activate Polymerization, fusing Wings and Chain, to fusion summon Frightfur Kraken!"

[ATK Frightfur Kraken: WATER LV/8 Fiend/Fusion/Effect ATK/2200 DEF/3000]

"When Chain is sent to the grave, I can add Frightfur Factory to my hand, which I'll activate immediately. By banishing Polymerization from my grave, I can fusion summon again. I use Kraken, Dog, and Fluffal Owl from my hand to summon Frightfur Sabre-Tooth."

[ATK Frightfur Sabre-Tooth: DARK LV/8 Fiend/Fusion/Effect ATK/2400 — 2800 DEF/2000]

"When Sabre is fusion summoned, I can special summon a Frightfur monster back from the grave. Also, it cannot be destroyed by battle or card effects if fusion summoned with 3 or more materials. All Frightfur monsters I control gains four hundred attack."

[ATK Frightfur Kraken: WATER LV/8 Fiend/Fusion/Effect ATK/2200 — 2600 DEF/3000]

"Kraken can attack twice, which means the total damage would equal exactly to eight thousand." Dylan pointed out. He was still unfazed; did he have a plan for this? "Nice play."

"Thank you." London said. "I enter my Battle Phase and declare my monsters to attack."

"Too bad you can't OTK me yet." Dylan flipped up his set card. "I activate Cybernetic Overflow! I banish any number of Cyber Dragons with different Levels my hand, grave, and/or face-up on my field, then I get to destroy the same number of cards you control! I banish Herz and Verstarkung from my grave, and the original Cyber Dragon from my hand to destroy your Factory, your Kraken, and your Sabre-Tooth!"

"But I just explained that Sabre-Tooth can't be—"

"Oh, I know," Dylan said. "I just needed them banished to activate Cyberload Fusion! I shuffle into my deck the monsters I just banished to fusion summon Cyber Eternity Dragon!"

[DEF Cyber Eternity Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/4000]

"While I have a machine-type, fusion monster in my grave, Eternity cannot be targeted or destroyed by your card effects!"

"Damn." London sets one card. "I end my turn."

[TURN 3 London LP/8000 Hand/2]

It was finally his turn.

[TURN 4 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

He drew Trade-In. There were two level eight monsters in his hand. Galaxy-Eyes Noble Dragon and Galaxy-Eyes Neutron Dragon, both were cards he had never seen before today. From a quick read, Noble could negate monster effects while Neutron could banish spell and trap cards upon summon.

The last three cards were a trap card, a Polymerization, and a Dragon's Mirror. Why would Dylan leave two fusion cards in his deck? He must've either forgotten due to the short amount of time he had or that there were fusion monsters in his extra deck.

So, he checked. There were indeed a few, but mostly their summoning conditions are not met. The first one that caught his eye was Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon. The sheer absurdity of its effect was diminished somewhat purely by the fusion materials needed to summon it.

[Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon

LIGHT Dragon / Fusion / Effect LV/10 ATK/3000 DEF/2500

Materials: 2x "Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon"

Must first be either Fusion Summoned or Special Summoned by sending the above monsters you control to the GY (in which case you do not use "Polymerization"). Cannot be destroyed by opponent's card effects. At the start of the Damage Step, when this card battles an opponent's monster: You can banish both it and this card, then, if it was the opponent's monster that attacked, Special Summon it back to their field at the end of the Battle Phase. You can only activate this effect of "Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon" once per turn. If this card is banished: Special Summon it.]

But the third one… it was just what he needed. The question was to playing Trade-In and risk not being able to bring out a monster at all or forgo further card advantage to satisfy his insured field.

"I play Polymerization!" Raymond began. "I fuse the Galaxy-Eyes Noble Dragon and Galaxy-Eyes Neutron Dragon to summon Galaxy-Eyes Astro Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Astro Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/2500 DEF/2100]

"Once per turn, as a quick effect, Astro Dragon allow me to special summon a Galaxy-Eyes with twenty-five hundred or less attack points from my grave!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Noble Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/2500 DEF/2000]

"When Noble is normal or special summoned, I can reveal any number of Galaxy-Eyes dragon-type monsters with different names from my hand, then I get to target face-up monsters you control equal to the number revealed plus one and negate their effects!" Raymond pointed at London's Sabre-Tooth card.

[ATK Frightfur Sabre-Tooth: DARK LV/8 Fiend/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 — 2400 DEF/2000]

"Astro attacks your Sabre-Tooth!"

[TURN 4 London LP/8000 — 7900 Hand/2]

"Noble attacks you directly!"

[TURN 4 London LP/7900 — 5400 Hand/2]

"I set a card and end my turn."

[TURN 4 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/2]

Hey… he was doing pretty well for himself. He was starting to see that his chances weren't as low as he previously thought. The nervousness was starting to die down little by little as the veil of perceived mastery fell from his eyes; Arnold and London were just players, the same as him. They had no secret knowledge nor some adept talent. They were human, they could be defeated, and they would be defeated.

Now Raymond was on familiar grounds. Just think of this as another fight, always anticipating whether their next move is either a flinch, a distraction, or a genuine hit. The constant observation for timings and opening. If they—no—when they let their guard down for even a second, was the moment they would fall.

All he needed to do was to crush them with absolute power.

* * *

 **Yep, the duel will continue onto the next chapter. I know, I know, it's kind of a cop-out, but if it went on any further, it would've been over 10,000 words! That's a lot for one chapter.**

 **I just want to make this clear, I have little idea as to how to write a duel in LINK format, officially known as Master Rule 4. Yu-Gi-Oh fan-fictions from Duel Monsters to Arc-V works because the zones where you put your cards don't matter at all. But with Vrains, it suddenly became much harder to dictate how a duel is supposed to write out because zones matter tremendously. So, for the sake of convenience, please just read through this fan fiction with a suspension of disbelief.**

* * *

 **12/1/2018**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy molly... another fav!? Thank you so much for favoriting this story, AlexanderCard23! It was already a surprise that I've got one fav, but now two!? That's 200% more than I expected! I'm grateful that now two people decided that this was something worth reading!**

 **So again, thank you!**

 **Here we go!**

* * *

"I draw." Arnold didn't draw as he declared, however. Instead, he was figuratively sweating. Arnold was backed into a corner at this point. The one card he had in his hand was the original Thunder Dragon, which meant that it was statistically unlikely that he can combo that with the card he drew. His field was empty, and to his knowledge, there was no card in his graveyard that could be activated. Raymond was safe.

Arnold eventually did draw a card, and he was a bit scared to look at it the first couple of seconds.

[TURN 5 Arnold LP/3700 Hand/1 — 2]

But that frown turned upside-down. "By banishing Thunder Dragonroar and Thunder Dragonhawk, I can special summon Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning!"

[ATK Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning: LIGHT LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

Raymond just went and jinxed it, didn't he?

"When Dragonroar is banished, I can special summon a Thunder Dragon in defense from my deck, and when Dragonhawk is banished, I can shuffle my hand into the deck and draw a new hand."

[DEF Thunder Dragondark: DARK LV/5 Thunder/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1500]

"YES! I've drawn another Black Luster Soldier!" Arnold almost jumped out of his seat. Raymond was really trying to hold his snark back on that thought. "I banish Thunder Dragonmatrix and Thunder Dragondark!"

[ATK Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning: LIGHT LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"When Dragonmatrix is banished, I can add another copy from my deck! And when Dragondark is banished, I can add Dragonhawk from my deck!" Arnold was fumbling through his cards like mad. "I then activate the same effects for my Black Luster Soldiers! Your Noble and Astro are banished!"

"I activate my trap card!" Raymond responded. "Dragon's Orb protects my dragon-type monsters this turn from targeting effects, also, they cannot be targeted for attacks this turn!"

"Counter trap!" What the!? London's face-down was activating now!? "Ultimate Providence lets me discard a card of the same type to negate it! I discard another copy of Ultimate Providence."

"Why didn't you activate that during Novak's turn?" Dylan questioned. That wasn't a good question; obviously it was because Raymond didn't activate any trap cards last turn. There would be no reason.

"I didn't think he would summon anything important with Poly."

Dylan paid close attention to that.

"I normal summon Dragonmatrix and link summon Borrelsword Dragon."

[ATK Borrelsword Dragon: DARK Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/3000 LINK-4]

"Borrelsword attacks your Eternity Dragon, and when it does, Borrelsword gain attack equal to half that monster's attack, and that monster's attack becomes half its current attack until the end of this turn."

[ATK Borrelsword Dragon: DARK Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/3000 — 4400 LINK-4]

[DEF Cyber Eternity Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 — 1400 DEF/4000]

"I end."

[TURN 5 Arnold LP/3700 Hand/1]

There went their defense. Raymond still couldn't believe that their opponents got over four thousand so quickly. Now that he thought about it, none of their monsters lasted more than two turns. Was this the state of the game right now? Long gone was the days where players like Raymond could actually have an ace monster, something to be proud of. The amount of effort it took to bring out such a powerful beast bonded with its owner's pride… forgotten.

"Well boys, I don't know about you, but I've had fun." Dylan said. How could he have that calm all the time? "Too bad we have to end it here."

[TURN 6 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 Hand/2 — 3]

"I normal summon Verstarkung again, which summons Novus, which in turn summons Herz."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Verstarkung: LIGHT LV/3 Machine/Tuner/Effect ATK/500 DEF/2100]

[ATK Cyber Dragon Novus: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

[DEF Cyber Dragon Herz: LIGHT LV/1 — 5 Machine/Effect ATK/100 DEF/100]

Oh. Right. Raymond had forgotten that Dylan had Verstarkung in his hand. He just summoned three monsters with only one card; it was looking good already.

"I overlay Herz and Novus to xyz summon Cyber Dragon Nova!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"By detaching a material, Nova summons back Sieger!" The material he detached was Herz, but Dylan didn't bother with activating its effect. This confident?

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2 — 1: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

"I now rank-up Nova into Cyber Dragon Infinity!" He slapped another xyz monster right on top of the first one. Could he really do that? He wanted to question it, but he figured that Dylan should know what he was doing. "It gains two hundred attack for each xyz material!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/2: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 — 2500 DEF/1600]

"Infinity allows me to target Borrelsword and attach to it as an xyz material!"

"I chain, activating Borrelsword's effect to switch Infinity's battle position." Arnold responded. "And you can't respond back!"

[ATK — DEF Cyber Dragon Infinity/2 — 3: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2500 — 2700 DEF/1600]

"That's not even a setback." Dylan grinned. "I activate Power Bond! Using Infinity and Verstarkung to fusion summon Chimeratech Rampage Dragon!"

[ATK Chimeratech Rampage Dragon: DARK LV/5 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2100 — 4200 DEF/1600]

"Sieger's effect activates! I target a machine-type monster I control and give it twenty-one hundred more attack points!"

[ATK Chimeratech Rampage Dragon: DARK LV/5 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/4200 — 6300 DEF/1600]

"Then Rampage Dragon's activates! Once per turn, I can send up to two light machine-type monsters from my deck to the grave, I send Cyber Dragon Core and Electromagnetic Turtle from my deck to the grave to give an additional two attacks!"

Three attacks… sixty-three hundred attack points… all direct damage…

"Battle! Chimeratech Rampage Dragon, all-out attack!"

[TURN 6 London LP/5400 — 0 Hand/1]

[TURN 6 Arnold LP/3700 — 0 Hand/1]

"Damn it." Arnold slapped his cards into the table. London did the same, except much weaker. "There goes our chance of three mill…"

All that… without a single point of damage to himself… Dylan was really something else. Raymond didn't want to sound like some sort of moron in his head, but Dylan was a dueling genius. But while Dylan celebrated their victory with his fist in the air and trying to dance on his seat, Raymond felt a little less hope. On the one hand, the rest of the day and the following day would be easy pickings; on the other hand, the third day may pit him up against his former partner.

He needed to figure out a plan. Now. Before it was too late.

Arnold collected his cards and quickly rushed out of from the table with London following. "Let's go, London, we came all this way for nothing."

That struck Raymond. That could've been him. If not for Dylan's cards, he would've been on the first ticket out of here. After all the heavy taxing on his strength, the unpredictable weather, the hours he put into the journey, all wasted. He wouldn't even be able to face his sister. What would he say to her? That her brother was failure who couldn't even begin save her?

Failure was death.

"…Earth to Novak…?" Dylan was waving his hand in front of Raymond's face. Confession: it did scare him. Only a little. Okay, he flinched. "You there…?"

"Yes," Raymond packed his things. "Just lost in thought."

"Oh?" Dylan's curiosity peaked. "What kind of thoughts?"

"Just things." Being vague would hopefully send the message that he didn't want to share it. Like a normal person. Then again, Dylan was a niche man, not the average.

"What kind of things?" Knew it, of course he was blind to social cues. The signs were all there. The naivety was there.

"Just… uh…" What should he say to throw Dylan off? Anything would do the trick, really. Just pick random things in his mind. "Being a master at baiting makes you a masturbator."

Okay, he took it back. Anything would not do the trick. What stupid thought was that? It sounded like a pick-up line some fourteen-year-old would use to catch himself a cougar! If for whatever reason the cougar went to some dirty motel with that fourteen-year-old, it must be out of pity or money. Next time he needed to come up with a distraction, remember to tell himself to never use that sentence ever again.

"Oh. My. God." Dylan, however, disagreed. He gasped and his face lit up like Galileo discovering that all objects—regardless of weight—fell to the earth at the same rate. What was the word? Oh yes, Eureka. "Novak, you are a genius."

Was he though? Thoughts produced without much time often are equivalent to jobless hipsters who dream to be revolutionaries for some unachievable new age. Fantasy must be quashed before they could get out of control, and Raymond's 'Master baiter' quote was certainly something that needed to be oppressed.

…

All of a sudden, Raymond understood how the church felt when they tried to silence Galileo.

"Truly you are a man beyond your time." Dylan added on. He made an okay sign with his hand and kissed the thumb and index as if indicating he was tasting the most exotic of spice.

What scared Raymond was that he still couldn't tell if Dylan was being serious or not…

Was scared the proper word? How to describe the fear of stupidity spreading like the gospel disguised in the form of wise proverbs?

Slow down. Maybe Dylan was only joking, and it flew over Raymond's head.

Wait…

Wow, he was the oblivious one. Of course, there was no way Dylan was serious.

"Being… a… master… at… baiting…" Dylan was texting on his phone, repeating the words as he typed along. "Makes… you… a… masturbator."

Oh God, he was serious.

Thankfully, there was no reply. A quick peak told Raymond that it was a girl. Oh… oh no… that was not something one should say to a girl, even if it was a joke. Raymond lived with two women; he should know by now that women's taste in humor were undeniably different. Their brains were fundamentally different. There's a certain limit on how dense a person could be. He refused to believe that Dylan was an anime protagonist incarnate and the embodiment of the densest element in the universe.

What was this girl going to think? That Dylan was secretly saying that she was an ugly slut baiting him around because she took advantage of the perceived fact, he was thirsty for her but still wouldn't put out? Who knows how and in what way she was going to take this? She'd probably now be cutting all ties to him without him even realizing what he did wrong. A joke to one man is an insult to another.

It'd be a duty as a fellow man to teach this knowledge to Dylan, whom looked like he had little to no experience with this kind of stuff. It'd be the least Raymond could do for him after all Dylan did for him.

"I wouldn't send that if I were you." Raymond said. "Especially to a girl."

"What?" Dylan asked, genuinely puzzled. "It's a good line."

"Is this girl your friend?"

"Well, yeah— I mean… I think? I like to think so." That's what friend-zoned guys would always say. "I hope…"

"You screwed up." Raymond explained. "Girls don't understand guy humor. What's funny to you might not be funny to her."

"No way." Dylan dismissed. "Girls can be funny too."

What? That wasn't his point. "Trust me, I've being around women long enough to know what they think." Kind of. Family members counted. Ms. Rhoads, his next-door neighbor counted. Her infant daughters counted. Who else…?

 _"For the last time Reynalda, she's just a friend."_

 _"A friend eh~? And pray tell why she is here~?"_

 _"I felt pity for her grades so I'm helping her with her homework."_

 _"And you sure it's just a… 'study session' and absolutely nothing will happen~?"_

 _"Oh, shut it, sis."_

…And that one girl he brought home during the Christmas vacation to which both Reynalda and Mom teased him over about. Still could recount the cocking eyebrows Reynalda was doing the entire time whenever the girl was not looking. Mom cooked up a big feast too, the best of the best.

That was the first and last time he was bringing any girl to his home. Ever.

"Oh my God…" God can't save him from a woman's scorn. Dylan suddenly grabbed Raymond by the shoulders. Not aggressively, Dylan was too damn—not strong enough for that, but he managed to move Raymond a little. Let's not go insult the man who provide already so much help for his goal, even mentally. "What should I do?"

"It's too late." Raymond gave him the hard truth, despite the protest on Dylan's face. "We men don't hate someone unless we have a good reason. Women though? They can hate anyone for anything."

 _"I change my mind, I don't like her at all."_

 _"Wha—? Then why the hell were you teasing me about a relationship with her?"_

 _"Because she fooled me for a while. You have to understand Raymond, people like her hides her true personality like it's an art."_

 _"Sis, you're being unreasonable."_

Dylan sulked. Despair really took hold of his happy, go-lucky attitude. "But… I really like her…"

Raymond understood. He patted and rubbed out Dylan's back like a good person would when they find someone suffering from nausea puking over the toilet. Granted, Raymond never actually had to do that, but if it ever happened, he would.

"There's plenty of other fish in the sea." Provided that he had the right bait, the durable fishing rod need to pull her in, and the bucket of water to make sure she was content with. "I know that sounds like something a brainless dweeb would say, but there is an element of truth to it."

Hopefully, he was doing this correctly. Most of the time when men came to him asking for advice—not just girl advice—he would tell them in an indirect way to scram because he didn't want to deal with other people's petty drama. Raymond cannot be relied on for comfort.

"I guess the signs were there." Dylan confessed. "I just didn't want to see it."

This poor dude. Then again, he should've expected it. People who play Yu-Gi-Oh were people who were low on their marketability to, at best, the opposite sex and high on social anxiety.

"Don't fret; I'm sure there are dozens of girls that can appreciate a strategic and…" Hard to praise a man he barely knew for a day. "Such a good man!"

With the increasing number of women who complain about how hard it was to find such man, Dylan should be a perfect candidate. Reynalda always hated that kind of women though, said that they wasted their years on uncommitting men and only choosing the nice ones after they've couldn't run wild anymore. He would like to think she was only saying that due to the Christian household they grew up in, but she would always complain this to him like he's some kind of vent toy after she herself was a vent toy for her friends.

"For real!?" Dylan's eyes sparkled for like the tenth time now. Did this man have an unlimited amount of optimism?

"Yeah…" Raymond patted on Dylan's back again. "Statistically, it's inevitable."

"Thanks man," Dylan got up. "I really needed that."

"No problem."

"Ready for our next duel, Novak?" Dylan was thankfully back on track.

"Already?" No breaks in-between? Raymond shrugged. "Guess so."

Though there was no choir of trumpets sounding in the background, nor was there any rose-tinted glasses placed on the bridge of Raymond's nose. Dylan's face wasn't brazened, his presence didn't command others, nor did it freeze anyone into attention. He did not, could not be any less non-threatening in his way of standing all the way down to the stance of his feet. He had no allure, nor did he have any charm. There was no kind of any love between them.

Though all of these things, Raymond found himself drawn closer to Dylan.

Again, not any love; not every answer had to be love, much to the protest of the mentally-ill dreamers. No, it was more akin to a soldier saluting to another right in the middle of a battlefield, despite the clear inclinations that Dylan had never fought in his life. Their cards were their swords, their decks were their souls, minds were shields, and the mere statement that they were standing against hordes of other soldiers fighting for the hand of the prize instead of retreating were their pride.

Two men against a whole army; nothing was more uniting.

"Come on," Dylan held out a fist, stopping midway towards Raymond. "I'm pretty sure we're going to be last for our next game!"

Raymond returned the gesture. "Let's go duel!"

* * *

Reynalda couldn't find the strength to get up without her head swirling every counter of her skull. The fact that she used the word 'corners' for her skull proved exactly how out of her right mind she was.

The sound of footsteps outside her room was the only sound to keep her company. Of course, the phone on the desk would ring occasionally and Reynalda would eavesdrop on the nurses' conversation to ease her boredom. One would talk about how great her kids are, some other talked about how she suspected her lover was being unfaithful. Some just talk about irrelevant things such as how nice their shoes looked or how they lost weight.

The flag of her country blowing outside the window; a flag of the beautiful land of poutine and Tim Horton's, where babies were born with ice skates on and handsome Mounties wandered the frozen tundra with great white wolves at their feet. Flag colored in red and white, with a red maple leaf at the center.

In short, the same old same old.

The benefit of not working at all was the one of the greatest things she could enjoy. In the past, she had attended high school from half an hour past eight in the morning to half an hour past two in the evening. Then she had to work from the time she got off from school as a waitress until seven at night.

And how glad she was to get away from the creeps checking her out whenever they thought she wasn't looking.

Every morning she gets up around six to prepare breakfast for Raymond and sometimes Mom if she could get up early in the morning. Reynalda still had school to go to at the time, so she could only hold one job; Mom held two, and sometimes odd jobs. It was so bad that she had racoon eyes and back pains. There were days when Raymond and Reynalda had to take turns carrying her around because she could barely walk.

Eventually, she had to be put in the hospital where she spent the rest of her days crippled in bed. Reynalda would visit every day to make sure she didn't feel as isolated as a prisoner on death row. Raymond didn't visit as much; that was the nicest way of putting it. He would always go out and do… things… to bring the money they needed to survive. He would always come back home like he was as crippled as Mom was.

He seriously thought that neither of them noticed.

And he never stopped.

Mom couldn't stop him, Reynalda couldn't stop him, no one could stop him. He was a man on a mission, a man with a purpose. She tried to reason with him, both of them did; Health and well-being was far more valuable than all the money in the world. They both learned that the hard way, and Raymond absolute couldn't make the same mistakes they did.

He didn't listen, blinded by green. 'And what was the alternative?' he countered. She didn't know, but she did know that trying to kill himself was not an option. But what could've they have done? There was no way they could've gone to the police without ruining Raymond's life, and they couldn't physically hold him down. It would've taken a man sterner and more forceful than Raymond himself to stop him. Maybe had Dad just stayed…

Mom's condition worsened. Raymond became more and more distant as the inflow of money steadily increased, yet still not enough. He was convinced that he just needed one more job, one more beating around the ring. Every time, he convinced himself of this.

Raymond never got to say goodbye to Mom.

She spent her last moments laying on the same bed Reynalda was laying on, calling for Raymond to visit her before the inevitable happened, all while Reynalda held her hands together to comfort her. She had to watch Mom's strength slowing deteriorating while she kept on coughing and coughing. Her heart monitor beated slower and slower.

She cried as the time ticked by. Every second without seeing him was a second she grew sadder. She didn't say it, but her face sure did; it spilt every little thing she was thinking. It was like another man abandoned her. Like father, like son.

Eventually, she couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

 _"Where's… Raymond?"_

 _"He'll be here, Mom. I promise."_

He did arrive. Fifteen minutes after she passed.

Out of breath, knees wobbly, bruised face, and senses disoriented. He never got to hear the last wish she wanted to tell him.

And now he's disappeared again, out on some long 'errand' to potentially earn a 'king's ransom'. Those were his words. She could only pray to God that it'd be nothing illegal. But let's be honest: the chances of that being the case was not in favor of what she'd like it to be. There was only so much faith she could have on him before she gave up.

At least he had the decency to say goodbye this time. Not in the 'I'll see you in Heaven' kind of goodbye, which was kind of a relief. She worried that he gave up on her like she did on him.

Which begged the question: did she deserve such love?

"Miss?" The nurse came in, pulling back the curtain. She was more of an intern, working less than two months in the hospital. There were rumors going around about how she got to the position because she was able to seduce a doctor, a married man no less, who was twice her age. Rumors were of course just rumors, and Reynalda couldn't tolerate any slander. But it was one of the other nurses that started it, and she was pretty honest on many other things.

The nurse handed her an old-fashion phone, one shaped like a brick with an antenna. "Here's the phone you requested."

"Thank you." She took it from her hand. The nurse then just stood there, eyeing her up and down. Reynalda thought that at least she could pick up on the que to leave. "Can I have some privacy with this call?"

"Of course." The nurse quickly left, sure to due to her other duties.

The number Raymond left behind was still on the nightstand. She took the piece of paper and stared at it. The numbers itself were giving her tremendous anxiety; a voice so close to her ear, trying to arouse the hate inside of her. She shouldn't be doing to, after all that happened, she never thought that she would be the one to reach out instead of vice versa. Slowly pushing the dials, she held the phone close to her ear. It had been years since she had anything to do with him, heard anything about him, or seen any sight of him.

"You have reached the voicemail of 'Richard Ramsey', please leave a message after the beep."

"Dad?" She began. "It's me, Reynalda."

She gulped.

"Your daughter."

 _"Daddy, daddy~!"_

 _"Hey~! How's my little girl doing?"_

"I hope you really haven't forgotten about me."

 _"You'll always be the light in my life, Reynalda. Well, of course with your mother and brother."_

"I'm guessing that Raymond already called you, didn't he? I hope he didn't do anything out of line." Reynalda guessed. Was it really guessing when Raymond didn't hide his hatred? She'd be more surprised if he didn't. "You know how he's always the more daring one. Remember that time when he dared himself that he'll outrun his childhood arch-rival by practicing on the treadmill at full speed?"

"He couldn't keep up for more than a minute." She laughed at the memory. "I had to pour some kind of honey over all the skin he scraped off. Don't you remember that?"

Please, tell her that he remembered.

"Dad, I'm just calling…" She paused. Her mind has gone blank as she tried to rack it. Oh dear, she forgotten what to say. She already had it mentally planned out beforehand, she even practiced what she was going to say, but now she suddenly forgot. Stage fright without the stage nor the audience, of that made any sense. She was sure she would recall the outlines of her points at least, but that drew out empty as well.

She had to improvise. Only seconds were left before he would theoretically hang up and think she was down talking and miss out on the rest of the message she wanted to convey.

"I'm just calling to let you know…" She breathed in and out, controlling her thoughts. "That I still consider you my Dad."

She wished it was a lie.

"Even with what you did to Mom…"

What he did to all of them. Look at what one man could do to his whole family. Suffering away in their daily lives while he was off to God-knows-where with his mistress-turned-second-wife. How could he? But…

"Dad… I don't think I'll ever see you again." She said. "I'm dying."

 _"I won't let anything bad to happen to you, Reynalda."_

"The doctors said that at this stage, I would have an unlikely chance of survival. And it'll only get worse."

The time was ticking. The night was getting closer and Reynalda felt sleepier as she continued to hold onto the phone. She better wrap things up before she accidentally falls asleep without realizing it and dropping the phone. With an antique like this, it was bound to break.

"So, I wanted to get this to you at least." She paused. "If I don't make it."

 _"Dad, look! A shooting star!"_

 _"Quick! Make a wish before it disappears!"_

"You didn't say goodbye to Mom."

 _"So, what did you wish for, Reynalda?"_

"At least say goodbye to me."

 _"God to bless us."_

"I… I love you… Dad."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to delete the message?"

Richard's phone read out as it gave her the option. Mrs. Ramsey pressed down on the dial.

"Message deleted."

This was the third or fourth time she's found these voice mails in her husband's phone. She was fairly certain to know if he heard the previous ones or not, mostly because these calls came when Richard was at home, either in the dining room eating dinner with their lovely children or getting himself ready in the shower. He would always separate from it by leaving it in another room so he wouldn't be distracted. Something the kids could learn a thing or two about.

This one was different. Usually it was the ramblings of an angry little boy, demanding things that didn't belong to him, nor did he deserve it. A powerless boy, trying to imitate how much of a man Richard was. In the end, a shadow would still be a shadow; nothing would change.

This time was a soft-spoken girl, far better than the boy.

But it still didn't matter.

He didn't need to concern himself with his old family. Past was the past, Richard willing left it behind for her. She revel at the thought, as strong as the day they were married. Richard sacrificed it all for her, that she was worth more than them. He belonged to a new family now, not that joke one where love was torn by some woman who didn't know how to please a great man such as him, how to satisfy his needs.

A better family.

The sentence brought her a fond smile as she took in the surrounding. This was her house, her home. One she had made with the man of her life, and the home she had raised the kids from childhood to where they were now. It could be tough sometimes, especially when the kids wanted to have a bit of peace and quiet.

Or when she and Richard wanted to have some time to themselves.

Speaking of, they should be sleeping by now. Walking towards the slightly opened door with the lights poking out, she spied on her boys, who were still awake and definitely not in their bunk beds. They were sitting on the floor, with playmats set up between them and trading cards all over the place. Pajamas were on, she could give them credit on that.

"I xyz summon Galaxy-Eyes Cipher Dragon!" Her eldest son bellowed, slapping the card as hard as he could against the mat. For dramatic effect, no doubt.

Silly card games were one of the things she would never understand. It was literally a piece of cardboard with art and text on it. That was it. She would never understand why Richard encourage this kind of behavior; it was clearly an addiction. Then again, it was his own products. She wouldn't be that unsupportive.

Normally, she would intervene and tell them to go to sleep. But she didn't feel like it. They could have their games all they want. In fact, it might be even better to have them distracted instead of lying in bed, trying to sleep, which inevitable attune their ears to even the slightest of noise. Tonight, was special.

As she made her way inside the master bedroom, she found Richard laying there, unclothed. He was waiting for her with his hands fingering her to come closer. They were big and strong enough to cover her screams and moans like all the times before. As if two sons and three daughters were not evident enough.

And what a specimen he was.

She locked the door behind her. She stripped, revealing a not-so-concealing lingerie as she bit her lips in anticipation.

She'd make sure he'd never remember his past. His place was here, by her side. There was nothing inherently wrong with keeping him to herself, just like there was nothing inherently wrong with being jealous.

Love was the answer. Love was the thing that made all things good.

* * *

 **I'm going to cut it off right here because this is NOT a smut. Shame on you if you actually thought there would be such a scene in here! This is a Christian fanfiction!**

 **I know this chapter is 3k less words than the previous two chapters, it's because I'm going to celebrate Christmas with my family and wanted to get this out before that time, which now is Christmas Eve. Honestly, I think I should lower the standard to this amount instead. There's only so much I could write. I am not a writing genius.**

 **I might come back and edit on this if I have the time. We'll see.**

 **Disclaimer about the first part: I can neither confirm nor deny if women are really like that; I just put it there as a filler of a conversation on what guys would likely talk about. There was a generic list like sports, life, food, girls, etc. Girls were chosen because that's probably the most likely conversation that would happen at this stage. Yu-Gi-Oh is not exactly spectator-friendly (despite what the anime would like to have you believe) so sports was crossed out. Life is something old friends would talk about, and they're anything but. The current food that was just snacks, so I doubt they would talk about that. By process of elimination, girls were left.**

 **If you think it's misogynistic, then you would be right. Kind of. This is from Raymond's perspective after all. Men who grew up without fathers are much more likely to be that way.**

 **If you think I'm being misogynistic, lighten up; at worse, it's only a eye-rolling, albeit cringe, mistake in fanfiction.**

* * *

 **12/24/2018**


	4. Chapter 4

**I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter, but Cyber Dragon Novus is Limited due to its sheer card advantage. Pot of Greed is a plus 1 and it's already too broken to ever be unbanned, now imagine the chaos of Novus when its FRICKING PLUS 2! The only reason it's not banned is because Novus is archetype-specific, and archetypes come and go. Verstarkung is Semi-Limited.**

 **Okay, I know that Pot of Greed says "Draw 2 cards." but it's only a Plus 1 because it's a Spell Card, a single use, and it doesn't stay on the field. Novus is a monster, stays on the field, and can perform other functions, thus a Plus 2.**

 **In addition, Galaxy-Eyes Neutron Dragon and Galaxy-Eyes Noble Dragon are also Limited.**

 **As a matter of fact, if a made-up card sounds too broken to be used in a duel, assume it's Limited unless proven otherwise.**

* * *

"Insect Queen attacks you directly!"

[ATK Metamorphosed Insect Queen: EARTH LV/7 Insect/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/2400]

"Not if I have anything to say about it. As a matter of fact, I do!" Dylan proclaimed. Hand slammed on the table, fist tightened up to his face. Glory awaited. "I'm going to say the N-word!"

"Mrs. Obama, get down!" One of the two guys across the table ducked with his arms covering his head. Face fake-trembling with fake fear, arms up as shields preparing for the inevitable bomb that would drop out of Dylan's mouth.

"Negaaaaaaated!" Dylan emphasized as he banished the Electromagnetic Turtle from his graveyard. "Your battle phase is negated!"

"You can't say that! That's racist!" Over-the-top, ecstatic, and out of his mind.

Raymond sat there dumbfounded.

"I can do what I Goddamn please, Skippy!" Dylan tucking his leather collar up, speaking into it similar to some super spy. "Kowalski, analysis."

"Your constant usage of dead memes has increased your chances of victory by three hundred ninety nine percent." The totally-not-Dylan's robotic voice said.

The other guy clapped his hands together and motioned his body up high. "If only our almighty Jinzo, destroyer of internet memes, would save us!"

Was this some sort of inside joke? And what the hell is a meme? And weren't they in a duel? When the heck had this become some kind of self-deprecating fest for elite snobs who think they're higher than Raymond because they understand inside jokes? Did that make sense?

Raymond dozed off into a daydream, letting the guys have their own version of jokes. Several hours have passed since the start of the tournament. Obviously, since they were still here meant that they haven't lost yet. By the way this duel was going, it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Sure, Raymond and Dylan had no monsters on their side and the other team controls a retrained Insect Queen and a very big dinosaur with thirty-five hundred attack points that can flip all their monsters face-down. But they've been in tougher situations before.

Huh. That phrase felt wrong. It was something he would say as he thought about something that happened a long time ago, not something just a few hours ago. It felt so long ago however, when Raymond looked outside the window. It was evening, as in the sun was glowing red and orange rather than the usual shine. Technically, no one could see the Sun because of the silhouettes of New York City, but the effect was there.

Boy, had the game changed. When he stopped playing, players could draw on their first turn, destroyed by battle effects were pretty viable, and the gameplay in general was a whole lot slower. The only monsters in the extra deck were Fusions, Synchros, and Xyzs.

Which lead to one of the most outrageous things he had ever discovered. During one of the duels, Raymond figured out why there was a red arrow on the far right and a blue arrow on the far left. It resembled like a decoration on the mats, such as a political statement: Red for Republicans and blue for Democrats.

Imagine his shock when he discovered a Pendulum card.

Why was the bottom half of the monster card green? Why did the monster have two sets of effect boxes? What were those red and blue numbers? So many questions suddenly popped up from just looking at a card.

Those fake Yu-Gi-Oh cards with spell cards that had levels were years ahead of their time.

Then for no apparent reasons at all, the player from that past duel just took a bunch of cards from his extra deck and summoned them all to his monster zones. Okay, that was where Raymond got lost.

Apparently, what he witnessed was a Pendulum Summon.

Once per turn, the turn player could special summon any number of monsters whose levels were between the Pendulum Scales simultaneously.

And what were Pendulum Scales? It was the numbers under the red and blue arrows on the card. Pendulum cards could be summoned as a monster or activated as spell cards in the pendulum zones.

And they go face-up in the extra deck instead of the graveyard to be summoned back later.

What. The. Hell?

There was no freaking way he was going to go through the trouble of destroying those monsters only for them to revive next turn with no cost at all!

Summoning a bunch of monsters in one turn by game mechanics only should be against the rules.

Who thought of this!? There's no way someone in Konami could have ever thought that was a great idea. Geez, they must've been high from smoking all the weed to even think this was a great idea. There is no way Raymond could ever win against something like that; every time he destroyed a monster, they'd just keep coming back.

A day back into the game and he was already confused. What other idiotic things did Konami do? An erotic Castlevania game? Some sort of zombie-based Metal Gear Solid? Shitty mobile games? No! They wouldn't do that! ... Hopefully... Somebody should tell its president to put down the pipe and the weed; he may be smoking too much of it.

Couldn't let this new Pendulum Mechanic deter him; Konami's game meant Konami's rules, and he didn't come this far away from home just to turn back. Until he got what he want, he must suck it up and deal with the broken game.

"Novak…" A muffled voice spoke into his conscience. "Novak!"

Raymond flinched. Dylan was waving his hand right in front of Raymond's face.

"It's your turn, Novak."

"Oh right." Novak drew a card. "Sorry."

[TURN 13 Raymond Novak LP/2600 Hand/2 — 3]

First thing's first: Ultimate Conductor Tyranno. Once per turn, during either player's Main Phase: it could destroy one monster in its side of the field or hand, and if their opponents did this, it could change all face-up monsters they control to face-down Defense Position. That was definitely a major blockade to overcome already. Add it on with thirty-five hundred attack points, and it was virtually an indestructible wall.

So far, the head count was three monsters: Metamorphosed Insect Queen, Ultimate Conductor Tyranno, and Giant Rex. Raymond knew that the one card the dinosaur player had in his hand was Miscellaneousaurus. After all, the guy added it from the graveyard on a previous turn.

Quick refresher: during either player's Main Phase, Miscellaneousaurus could be sent from the hand to the graveyard, during this Main Phase, Dinosaur-Type monsters the other team control were unaffected by Raymond's activated effects. Best chance was to destroy it during the Battle Phase—

Wait, no. What the heck was he thinking? The partner's life points had already hit zero. Damn, Raymond was confused for a minute. He had to remember that although the other guy could use his defeated partner's monsters, he could not use the guy's hand as it was not in 'Public Knowledge'.

He still had to deal with Tyranno's face-down effect. Most logical conclusion was that its effect would be activated in the Battle Phase.

Dylan had a field spell card that grants all light attribute they control a thousand attack points when attacking a monster of higher stats. So, he needed a light attribute monster with at least twenty-six hundred attack points.

Well, hopefully, it'd go as smooth as he played out in his mind.

"By paying 1000 LP, I can Special Summon Galaxy Kaiser Dragon from my hand!" Raymond started.

[ATK Galaxy Kaiser Dragon: LIGHT LV/6 Dragon/Effect ATK/2500 DEF/1000]

[TURN 13 Raymond Novak LP/2600 — 1600 Hand/2]

"Straight to the Battle Phase!" Raymond declared. "Kaiser Dragon attacks Tyranno! And by Sanctuary of Light, it gains one thousand attack points!"

"Tyranno's effect activates!" The owner destroyed Giant Rex. If he didn't, Kaiser's effect would kick off when destroyed to add one Galaxy or Photon monster from deck to hand. Sanctuary of Light would trigger as well, letting him special summon a light attribute monster of the same type the moment Kaiser was destroyed.

Just as predicted.

"I activate the trap card, High Spell Aria!" If a spell card's activation or effect was negated by an opponent's card effect during his turn, it could activate this card from his hand. High Spell Aria allowed him to target one spell card in his grave—Normal, Quick-Play, or Ritual—and banish it. The card's effect would become that spell card's effect when that card would be activated. "Monster Reborn!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

It was Raymond's dragon. His Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon was the only copy that wasn't first edition.

"Attack!"

[TURN 13 Kuykendall LP/0 — 0 Hand/1]

Damn shame that the damage was still going to Kuykendall instead of his partner. "I end my turn."

[TURN 13 Raymond Novak LP/1600 Hand/2]

[TURN 14 Rob LP/2100 Hand/1 —2]

"From my hand, I equip Parasite Paranoid to your Galaxy-Eyes!" Rob said.

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon — Insect/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

Here they go again. Rob tried this before and it was dealt with the very next turn. The threat of his glorious Galaxy-Eyes becoming a petty insect, denied of its attack, and cannot activate its effect that targeted insect monsters, was a frightening one. Until he realized that he could literally just use it to Xyz summon a better monster.

So yes, not really a good draw for their opponent, which obvious was good for Raymond.

"I activate Cocoon of Ultra Evolution! I tribute Photon Dragon to special summon Super Perfectly Ultimate Great Moth from my deck, ignoring its Summoning conditions!"

[ATK Super Perfectly Ultimate Great Moth: EARTH LV/8 Insect/Effect ATK/3500 DEF/3000]

Raymond would like to take that statement back.

And what kind of idiotic name was Super Perfectly Ultimate Great Moth? Must've been a executive employee who said 'Screw it' and handed the naming process to his five year-old son who proceeded to add on as many adjectives as possible without it taking up too much space. Of course, he failed, and Raymond was going to call him out on it, regardless of the age.

"Then, by banishing Cocoon from my grave, I target and shuffle one insect monster from my grave into my deck, then draw one card." Rob was not satisfied with the card he drew. Luck was on Raymond's side. Dare he call it luck, or the… thing he most despised? "Insect Queen attacks Galaxy Kaiser Dragon!"

"Galaxy Kaiser Dragon allows me to add my second Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon to my hand!" And it was Reynalda's card. There was a little scratch on the edge of the card to confirm it. It was so little that a person had to specially look for it to find it, but it was there. He had chosen it to remind himself that she was always with him. "And Sanctuary of Light lets me special summon Galaxy-Eyes Neutron Dragon under the condition that it can't activate its effects this turn!"

[DEF Galaxy-Eyes Neutron Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/2500 DEF/2000]

"Super Moth attacks Neutron Dragon!" Rob entered Main Phase Two, but did nothing. "I end."

[TURN 14 Rob LP/2100 Hand/1]

[TURN 15 Dylan Trudeau LP/4900 Hand/0 — 1]

"I set one card and end my turn."

Guess even Dylan didn't have fancy and complex moves every turn. Most of his monsters were banished, which was bad since the graveyard was a core element in his strategy. All copies of his Chimeratech Rampage Dragons were banished, as well as Megafleet and many others, so there was no possible way he could repeat his formula. That first twenty-one damage was from Power Bond and the remaining thousand was for life points cost.

From that, Raymond could infer that Dylan really doesn't like taking damage from his opponents, especially when his own cards could damage it. Cards like Power Bond, Soul Charge, Solemn Strike, etc.

That was something indeed to be noted.

[TURN 16 Rob LP/2100 Hand/1 — 2]

"All-out attack!"

"I activate Cyberload Fusion!" Dylan was quick to erect a metaphoric wall to defend himself from the monsters that was about to end his life.

[DEF Cyber Eternity Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/4000]

Classic move. Cyberload Fusion was Dylan's go-to spell card whenever in a tough situation. However, with no fusion monsters in his graveyard, Eternity was as vulnerable as the Great Wall when the Mongols invaded like hordes of insects. How poetic.

"Super Moth's effect activates! For each time you summon a monster, I can equip an insect monster from my deck, hand, or grave to it! I choose Parasite Paranoid!"

[DEF Cyber Eternity Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine — Insect/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/4000]

Rob wasn't pleased. "I end."

[TURN 16 Rob LP/2100 Hand/1]

[TURN 17 Raymond Novak LP/1600 Hand/2 — 3]

Yes! He drew the card he needed!

"I activate Galaxy Zero!" Raymond declared. "I get to special summon back my Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon with its effects negated and attacks neutralized!"

But it wouldn't matter. With his dragon back to the field and his sister's card in his hand, his victory was assured. Once he merge them together, they would be unstoppable. "I now activate Polymerization! I fuse the Photon Dragon in my hand and the Photon Dragon on my field to fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"Attack Super Moth!"

"Wha—?" Rob was puzzled. No doubt, it'd be pointless to attack with a weaker monster; common sense dictated it. But Rob was smart, he quickly recovered as he figured out it must be Supernova's effect that made Raymond this bold.

"Supernova's effect activates! When it battles, I can banish both monsters!"

"What good does that do?" Rob chuckled. Although Rob lost his monster, at least his life points were safe. Not for long, of course.

"When Supernova is banished, it special summons itself!"

"Oh shit…" With nothing to stand in the way of him and his sister…

"Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon attacks you directly!"

[TURN 16 Rob LP/2100 — 0 Hand/1]

"Alright!" Dylan cheered, raising his hand for a high-five. The other team weren't so happy, and Dylan's good mood was only rubbing the salt on their wounds. "Come on, don't leave me hanging!"

Reluctantly, Raymond returned the gesture.

"Good game." Rob and his partner offered their handshake.

"Good game." Raymond and Dylan accepted.

"It was fun while it lasted." Kuykendall sighed. "Guess it's back to janitorial duties."

"I really thought we really had a chance…" Rob said to Kuykendall as they walked away with their stuff.

The place wasn't as crowded as when it was the morning; most players were done with their duels and the people that remained were trading cards. Which was a damn good thing because Holy shit, some people had no sense nor concept of personal hygiene.

Understandable if they had to work out for a body like his. Inexcusable when the majority of them were fat. And by method unimaginable, they smelled worse than the locker rooms. No amount of nice personalities would convince him to hang out with those people. Yes, pitiful and repulsive.

"That was the last duel of the day, right?" Raymond asked. It better be, since dinner time was approaching fast and his stomach growled, though not out loud. He skipped lunch already, so if Dylan told him that it wasn't, then Raymond would lose his mind.

"Yep." Dylan had no idea of the crisis he just averted. "We're finally free to go cruising!"

"We?" Raymond questioned as he packed up everything and carried his backpack.

"Yeah… uh… I hope it's we." Dylan was a little concerned that he came off creepy. Let's be honest, he kind of did. "I just thought that maybe we should get to know each other a little bit more."

Absolutely not. First of all, that sounded gay. Yes, Raymond was using the word gay; he would not apologize for his words. Second, Raymond was freaking tired. Third, it might take hours for him to find a good spot that wouldn't leave him robbed naked; if he wanted to sleep without worry, he needed to start searching right now.

"I don't have any other friends here," Dylan continued. "They… uh… really don't share my enthusiasm for the game."

…Raymond mentally sighed. Pitiful little bird. Suppose he could hang out with him to pay back what Dylan did for him. "Okay, we'll go cruising."

Dylan's face lit—oh why was Raymond surprised? "Yeah, maybe we should—"

"THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!" A behemoth of a shriek erupted from somewhere in the facility, amplified by the echoey nature of their surrounding.

Raymond and Dylan's animalistic instincts kicked into overdrive. Raymond was up and ready to defend himself, fixing himself into a stance without his mind needing a second to tell his body so. Dylan though, was more than ready to run away from the potential threat.

"YOU FUCKING CHEATED!" That voice shrieked out again. It was coming from Raymond's left, from a group of four guys around a table with cards laid upon it. Must be a duel dispute then; none of his business as far as he was concerned.

"YO, JUDGE!" One guy yelled out to another guy from across the row of tables. Raymond didn't want to even describe the appearance of the man mentally in case he would accuse himself for being… let's just say stereotypical. "DISQUALIFY THIS BITCH!"

Wow, what a mature way for adults to take this precious flower of a man seriously. Keep it up and he just might win a Nobel Prize.

"Oi, a win's a win, mate." Another man retorted. British, by the sound of it because Raymond had a better chance of finding a dead American than an American that uses 'Oi' in a sentence. "You don't have to get your crappers in a bunch."

"CUT THAT SHIT OUT!" The stereotype screamed back. "I'MA POUND THAT SMUG-ASS GRIN OFF YO MOTHERFUCKING FACE!"

Security was immediately on the move. How effective they would be, was up in the air. They didn't look exactly in shape, and the out-of-control monkey looked to be someone who could put up a fight or two. By Raymond's experienced estimations, it would take about five or six security guys to subdue him, now that the inept was fully aware of the situation he helped to create.

British guy got to have a lot of guts to just sit there all smug. He was collecting his cards though, as he wasn't that confident in his abilities to take on a guy off his meds.

"Let's get out of here before things get ugly." Raymond said. But Dylan didn't move; he was fixated on the British guy for some reason. Raymond tried to gently pull Dylan away, but that didn't work either. It got to the point where Raymond had to forcefully drag Dylan away from the scene.

Good thing too, because things did get ugly. And they would've been in the crossfires.

The guy sure acted all tough, but his skills were quite lacking. He did manage to get a couple of hits in before security nabbed him. From then on, he was trying to fight off the security. Good luck with that, as only more back-up came in to restrain the lunatic.

"YOU AIN'T GONNA GET YO-SELF OUT OF THIS, YA HEAR!?"

Jesus Christ, this moron must be a disappointment. Did he still need his mommy to be called in at his age? Maybe all he needed was a change of diapers.

The British man strolled off, seemingly okay with the outburst. But nevermind that; Raymond's priority was to protect Dylan from danger than to settle the little squabble himself.

"That was quite a show." Raymond tried to lighten up the mood. Not really a show compared to his experiences though. "It's not like you get to see that everyday, isn't that right, Trudeau?"

"Yeah." Dylan mumbled, disgruntled.

Raymond picked up on something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just that…" This was the first time he had seen Dylan angry; what was with the British guy that could tick off everyone? "That guy is Travis E. Lawrence."

Which one? There was four men over there; Dylan would have to be more specific. The name didn't ring a bell either. Was Raymond supposed to know who he was? "Who's Travis E. Lawrence?"

"King of Games."

Raymond froze.

"First place world champion for two years in a row." Dylan sneered. Yes, Raymond saw that right, he wasn't hallucinating. Dylan fricking sneered. "He's always so Goddamn lucky."

"You sound like you hate the guy."

"I guess you can say that." Dylan confessed, much to Raymond's surprise. This Travis guy must've done something so terrible that made a jolly man like Dylan to hate him.

"Why?"

"I told you, he's incredibly lucky."

Raymond looked at him puzzled.

"Like impossibly lucky."

Raymond was stilled puzzled.

"Winning lottery jackpot twice lucky."

Oh. "Wait, seriously?"

"I don't understand why someone would buy an eight hundred dollars shoes if nobody would see them under the table." Dylan went off to his own world. "Or hundred dollars of cufflinks nobody else is going to know is there."

Raymond didn't want to say it, but Dylan sounded like a communist right at that moment. Hating someone for being more fortunate than him? Surely, Dylan was above the pettiness. "You have to hate something else about him; you can't be hating him only because he's more fortunate than you."

Dylan sighed. "I know I'm not supposed to, but if you're me and you've known him as long as I known him, then you'd be feeling the same way."

"Doubt it." Raymond said. It saddened Dylan that Raymond did not understand why he hated Travis so much. Based on his choice of words, Raymond could assume that there had been some bad history between the two. Being an outsider who had no more than a day's reputation, he had no right to probe. Also, it wasn't like he cared too much.

The only thing he should care about was that this Travis E. Lawrence was two-time World Champion. "Look, we don't need to linger on that Travis guy; remember what we're going to do?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Dylan gave in, trying to smile again. He patted Raymond on the back. "Let's go have some fun."

"Say… what do you have in mind?"

"I don't know," Dylan said. "Would you like to just wander around the big city until we find something to do?"

Raymond smiled back. "I would certainly like to."

* * *

"You look terrible."

Dylan huffed and puffed, and blew his breath out. Hand on the rails, barely able to stand. Sweat was running down his face and his body was burning, hot and steamy. Face ran red too, almost giving up as he half-heartedly glowered at Raymond.

"Want to take a break?"

"One… more… round…" Dylan struggles to get the words out. Something clogged his throat, and Raymond best guess was over-saturated amount of thick mucus. Easy to tell, since he could hear Dylan trying to breathe through the snot.

Raymond chuckled at Dylan's feeble attempt to beat him. "You may be better than me at card games, but when it comes to stamina and endurance, I am the master."

Faster reflexes too, he didn't add. Dylan was a fool to challenge Raymond to a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Now he would show this mortal what it feels like to be totally humiliated by a superior deity!

"Actually…" Dylan sighed, as he collapsed with his leg giving way to the strain it accumulated. "I… concur…"

Damn. There went his victory lap.

Dylan was a… pretty chill guy, according to the terms of how the idiots back during high school would refer to it. They did wander around the big city for an hour or so, visiting Times Square to experience just how clustered everyone was. Surprisingly, even when they were both adults—well technically, Dylan was a year younger, so only Raymond was legally the adult—they still got lost sight of each other for a short period of time. It was the perfect hunting ground for a very naive child.

Next was Grand Central Terminal. So many movies took place in here; Raymond had to visit it. Besides, it also gave this little steampunk kind of feeling, a glimpse to the founding years of what New York had been. If one could ignore the modern people walking around, then he could definitely delude himself to think he's a time traveler.

Places here and places there. Raymond had to confess, he was enjoy his time here. He hadn't had this much enjoyment in years. The last time he was this way was when—

No. Shouldn't have thought about that time. Let's just focus on the good things at the moment. It was a good evening out.

Oh, except for that one douchebag that tried to sell them Staten Island ferry tickets. Dylan may have been tricked hook, line, and sinker, but Raymond could smell the deceit. Just a low-time crook who went around scamming people for their money. Being around so many people like this, Raymond could instantly tell the difference between an honest one and a scumbag one.

Dylan almost bought one too, up to forty dollar's worth, but Raymond stopped him. 'It's a special offer,' that scum said, 'You won't get this kind of discount anywhere else,' it said. Turns out that the ferries were free, absolutely no charge at all.

So, right now, they were at a Dave & Busters. It was supposed to be all in good fun, but the moment Dylan got into a game with him, it was forgotten, replaced with determination to beat Raymond on every single machine they came across. A small crowd had gathered to watch, partly for the high score, mostly to get a laugh of how erratic Dylan desperately danced to show off how much of an equal he was to Raymond.

And boy, was Dylan bad at almost everything else besides card games. Connect Four? Raymond beated him at the ratio of ten-to-one. Pac-Man? The ghosts ate him before he even cleared the first round, and no, easy mode did not count. Galaga? Too disorientating. Dylan kept on challenging him to new games, because there must be something he was better than Raymond at.

Raymond won each of them, of course, as he always should. Sometimes, a man like Dylan just needed to accept that he was inferior… in some ways.

"Next time," Dylan growled as he got down. "You have to be cheating. You have to be."

"A common excuse for a common man." Raymond smirked.

Huh. It's been a while since he did that, for somebody else other than family. An era ago, from a memory's perspective.

"Oooh!" Dylan wagged his finger back and forth. "Your pride will be your downfall!"

"Sure it will," Raymond dismissed. "Though I'm not the one who embarrassed himself by tripping over the edge on round two."

"Damn it, I thought we agreed that it's a common mistake that shouldn't be focused on!" Dylan flustered.

Raymond had to admit, he thought all arcades were just a place of mindless music trying to be hip with the kids and constant flashing lights that hurt everyone's eyes. Then again, that may be the kid-oriented places only; this was an adult palace for those who wanted to revisit their childhood. There was no other reason as to why else would there be a bar serving alcohol right next to the arcade with no barriers whatsoever.

Speaking of which, was complete bullshit. Raymond old enough to pick up a gun and fight in a war but too young to drink? Come on, he wanted to try at least once. No, nevermind, scratch that. Reynalda would be pissed if she found out, and doing so would disrespect Mom.

"So what should we do now?" Dylan asked once they were alone.

Raymond simply thought they should just more onto the next game, but then he remembered that they played all the games. Suddenly, the thought of just how much money had Dylan spend for him to join was too much. They should stop here for today.

"You look really tired." Raymond tried to play it as it was beneficial to Dylan, instead of Raymond trying to relieve himself of some guilt. "Maybe we should just head out and call it a night."

"You kidding?" Dylan slapped Raymond on the back. "This is New York City! NEW YORK CITY! Last time I've came here was when I was ten! I'm going to experience everything it has to offer! Food, places, rides, and if I'm lucky, a girl!"

"A girl, huh?" Raymond held back his chuckle. It was not meant to be an offense to Dylan, but he must accept the reality of that notion. He was staying for only up to three days, then he must return home. Good luck convincing a girl to move out of her home in three days. Long-distance relationships never work.

He could have a one-night stand, but aside from the fact that Dylan was absolutely not a ladykiller, it was also pointless other than disenfranchise his ability to bond when he did want to settle down. And yes, he was trusting his mother's wisdom on this one.

"Then name one of your charms." Raymond challenged, folding his arms.

"Uh… what?"

"You heard me." Raymond returned the gesture by slapping back. "If you want to get a girlfriend, then you're going to need something to attract her with."

Because whether he liked it or not, friendships are a form of trade. One can do a favor for the other in exchange for a waiver to call in an equivalent debt in the future. If other pulled an idiotic 'Friends should just help each other without expecting anything,' then that friendship was doomed to fail, no matter how hard one tried.

Now upgrade that to romantic relationships, and the costs would guarantee to skyrocket.

"Well, I'm nice, loving, patient—"

"Funny and reliable too?"

"How did you know?"

"Trudeau, this isn't the first time a guy listed off his generic traits to me." Well, also the nice and reliable part was based on the fact that Raymond wouldn't be here without Dylan's help, which he was thankful for. But it came from naivety, which was just asking for people to trample him under their feet. It was better for Dylan in the future to not list niceness as a quality, at least not that quick. "Everything you just said can be provided by every other guy."

Dylan began to nervously chuckle. "I'm sure all you need is love—"

"'I have no job, no house, no car, but I'm totally sure my heart is enough to get us through anything, baby!'" Raymond parroted. "'You should just love me for who I am!', 'My past doesn't matter!', 'I'm not that guy anymore!', 'If you can't handle me at my worst, then you don't deserve me at my best!'"

Dylan grimly winced at the words as if they were punches to his guts. It resonated with him, and not the good kind.

"You see how bad that sounds, right?"

"You have a very skewed view of love, Novak." Dylan accused. Now he was on the defensive. "I'm sure you've just had some bad experiences, but I'm sure you know not—"

"Not all?" Raymond finished for him. "Like I said Trudeau, this isn't my first rodeo. General does not mean no exceptions. So come on, what's you charm?"

"Well, I… I…" Dylan was stunned. Visibly sweating a little bit. Body became fidgety as the seconds dragged on. "I don't know…"

"Come on, you must have some rare qualities." It really seemed like Dylan had a confidence issue, which was rather a surprise to Raymond. He had no problem sending that girl a text, so what was the problem? Supposed it could be Raymond's fault that he pointed out how far off the target Dylan actually was when he tried to flirt, but better truth than lies.

"I…" Dylan stuttered. "I really don't…"

Raymond really had his work cut out for him. He scanned the area, particularly at the bar section of the arcade. There were plenty of women to choose from, but most of them were either low-quality, too old, or holding a fake ID. So Raymond searched harder, much to Dylan's confusion. He didn't stop until spotted a woman sitting by the bartender, drinking her watermelon mango margarita.

She was just sitting there, alone, waiting for a man to make a move on her. Soft fingers held up her chin as the other set skated around the circumference of her glass. Raymond followed the imaginary line of direction as he slid his eyesight upon her slender neck. She sat with her legs crossed, tightening the hold of her jeans over her thick thighs. That shirt she wore may not be the prettiest of outfits, but it worked if her goal was to display a modest and good robust.

There was something about her that reminded him of someone familiar. And it wasn't someone he liked to be reminded of. An irrational hatred flew through his mind, but he quickly suppressed it. It wasn't fair to judge her based on a single second of flashback.

She would do.

"Psttt," Raymond leaned in to whisper, pulling Dylan closer. "Don't react, but there's a girl who's been watching you for the last five minutes."

"There is?" Dylan's head, ignoring Raymond's clear instructions, instantly swiveled. Raymond had to deliver a hard elbow hit so deep into Dylan's side that a permanent bulge would've been formed out of the other end. That didn't stop Dylan though, as the prospect of a secret admirer made him invulnerable to pain. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

Honestly, he was. The lady had no interest in Dylan; he was just another face in the crowd. But by making him think there was, Dylan could build some confidence and not borderline arrogance like he did with the text girl.

"I said don't react! Jesus…" Raymond dodged the question.

"Kind of hard not to when you say something like that…" Dylan whispered back, adding in a fake cough to be extra-careful. "O-Okay… is she hot?"

"Oh yes, definitely." Blonde, feminine, clear skin, good hip-to-waist ratio, noticeable bust size, and most of all, a pretty face. All men's dream girl. "I've that look before; she's trying to not look like she's obviously watching you."

"Really?" Dylan was excited. Very excited. Holy crap, it was growing.

"See for yourself." Raymond spun Dylan faster than the washing machine spinning its clothes. Missed Raymond with that kind of shit.

"I thought you said she was looking!" Dylan cried.

"What part of 'Trying to not make it obvious' do you not understand?"

"Oh, right."

If she was bait, then Dylan fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Raymond could see himself biting the bait, if he lacked the tutor of living with two women for more than eighteen years of his life. Experience was a bitter teacher, indeed. This woman was nothing special, inferior in fact, when compared to his mother and sister. They held themselves with dignity, she didn't.

"She looks like she's twenty-one though…" Dylan was seventeen, almost eighteen, so a four-year difference. "Do you think she'll go with a younger guy like me?"

No.

"You'll never know if you never try. There is such things as cougars, Trudeau."

"But what if—"

"You'll come off like a creep?" Raymond guessed. And by the way how Dylan looked astonished, he guessed right. Raymond was a prophet tonight, wasn't he? "Trudeau, trust me when I say this: being 'creepy' is an inevitable part of your age learning to speak to women you're interested in. You shouldn't allow women who've never had to be the pursuer shame you for trying and not being perfect at it on your first try."

"But I couldn't name a single charming thing about myself…"

"Use the most out of what you do have." Raymond patted him on the back. "After this, we're going to work on that self-esteem of yours, Trudeau. It's a universal turn-off."

Dylan was still hesitant, but nevertheless, he braved it out and marched towards the woman with a smile on his face. Once he realized that he was smiling too much, he tried reeling it back. Dylan might be nervous, but that wasn't enough to stop him. Eventually, he found himself on the stool next to her, ready to mingle.

Raymond felt guilty for sending such a tender and mild sheep to the slaughter.

Though not to fear, when Dylan was doing quite well for himself at first. By quite well, he meant that she didn't looked like she wanted to tell him to piss off nor wanted out of the conversation. Did she looked like she was interested? Hell no. Dylan didn't pick up on her cues however, and he continued.

Bad it was, it was going as expected.

Oh, looked like Dylan finally picked up that he was boring her, and now trying to tell a story. Hopefully made-up and convincing at the same time, otherwise it'd be the riskiest play he made so far. It didn't seem it paid off that well, however, she was more engaged to the interaction by a margin.

This was good. Dylan found a good pace and she wasn't that disinterested. Raymond should've gave Dylan more credit than he initially did. Step by step, he moved in closer to actually hear what they were saying without appearing like he was approaching because he wanted to talk to her as well. It'd be a shitty thing for any man to do and he'd ruin any chance Dylan would have.

Not to brag, but being over six feet, fellow blonde, blue eyes, and a bodybuilder's body compared to the common features of the common man? Yes, Dylan wouldn't stand a chance.

"Sorry love, that took longer than expected." A British accent cutted into the conversation. The newcomer handed a new glass of margarita to her, then was surprised to see another man trying to flirt with her, just as the other man was surprised by the newcomer. "Dylan?"

Wait, what the hell?

Dylan groaned, clearly irritated. All sense of pleasantry evaporated the second the newcomer showed his face. "Travis…"

"You two know each other?" She asked, pointing them to each other.

"Why yes, love," Travis put his arm around her. She didn't resist. She enjoyed it. And she giggled when its fingers began walking down her body. Oh no… Oh no. "Dylan here is an old pal, isn't that right?"

Dylan's brow twitched. "Not really."

"Ouch, that hurts, mate." Travis laughed it off. Although she didn't laugh as he did, she did take it as light-hearted banter between assumed friends.

Dylan wasn't taking it as so. "What are you doing here?"

"Having fun! Same as you. I was just talking to this lovely lady when I unfortunately had to take a sponsorship call." Travis shook his head. "You can't take much of a break these days when you're a superstar like me."

"You call that unfortunate?" She teased, booping his nose. Oh God, Travis already had her under his thumb before Dylan could make a move, if she felt comfortable enough to make physical contact.

"When compared to not having time to talk to you, gorgeous?" He teased back. "Do I even have to answer that?"

They continued to flirt with each other for the next minute. Right in front of Dylan. Travis knew full well what he was doing.

This did it, this was the moment Raymond knew exactly why other men hated him. It'd be one thing for him to affirm that he was trying out his chances with her before Dylan came; Raymond was fine with getting in line of first come, first serve. What he wasn't fine with was Travis being a Goddamn son of a bitch who didn't care about letting the other men gently down and instead opt to rub it well in their faces.

Nonetheless, it didn't change the fact that this was a lost cause now.

"How about we call call a cab?" Travis leaned into her ear, though not a whisper. His malice was clear as day. He pulled her in closer, leaving no room for escape, not that she wanted to. Wherever he move, she followed. Togather, they got off their seats and proceeded to the exit.

Meanwhile, Raymond came up to him, putting his hand on Dylan's shoulder. Dylan barely looked back at Raymond. He was defeated.

"It's okay," Raymond sighed. He truly felt pity. "Just because you failed this time, doesn't mean it'll be like this forever. Just remember what I've said and don't give up."

Sudden, something came over Dylan when Raymond said that. He immediately dashed towards the exit too. He care little for the other people standing in his way. "Wait!"

Travis and his date stopped and turned around to see Dylan behind them, furious.

"One game."

"Pardon me?"

"Since we're such good 'pals'," Much emphasis on the last word. "How about one game with me?"

What the hell was Dylan doing!? This only makes him look like a sore loser and a 'nice guy' to be laughed at, ridiculed, and slandered for 'expecting her to owe him sex because he was nice to her' even though common sense dictated nobody thinks like that! Raymond chased after him, dreading the aftermath if he didn't reel Dylan in and pull him back to his sense.

Travis however, was amused. He cooed to her, "I'm terribly sorry love, but do you mind waiting just a wee bit longer?"

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"I promise this won't take long." Travis kissed her on the cheek. "Alright Dylan, we can play one game. You want play Rambo? Air hockey? Mario Kart? What do you want?"

Dylan unbuckled the deck-box attached to his belt and slammed it down on an empty table. Gently.

"A duel, eh?" Travis folded his arms. "And how do you know I brought my deck with me?"

"Because your luck allows you to have everything you need whenever you need them." Dylan increasingly became venomous.

"You know me too well."

Travis unbuckled his own deck-box and glenty placed it down on the same table. They both took a seat, as Raymond and the woman stood there and watched on.

"Let's duel."

* * *

 **That's right! Another cliffhanger! Sorry about that.**

 **Disclaimer: The second part is the way it is because I'm expanding on what I've written in the A/N in the previous chapter. It's essential to the plot. Trust me.**

 **Also, you might have noticed calendar dates at the end of every chapter. Those are dates when the chapters are published. I'm doing this so you can predict my update schedule.**

* * *

 **1/17/2019**


	5. Chapter 5

**I just want to thank users JohanPhantom and Tiger2014 for favoriting this story!**

 **On with the chapter!**

* * *

If it wasn't for the playful sound effects of the gaming machines behind them, Raymond would've had no protection from ground zero of a nuclear aftermath made from undertone hatred of each other. Or at least, Dylan's hatred of Travis. Raymond had no idea if Travis hated Dylan an equal amount.

And why should he? Things were going his way, and if what Dylan said about him being lucky was true, then any negative energy Dylan shot his way would fizzle out by the aura of happiness of how fortunate of a life Travis lived. Which, by the way, brought Raymond's eyes to Travis's left wrist; a diamond-gold Rolex watch. What was the price of that thing? A thousand dollars was an extremely safe bet that it couldn't be any less than six thousand.

The woman, whom was sitting beside Travis by the way, seemed to think that too. Her hand kept finding themselves reaching for that watch, the striped tabbed collar dress shirt from Robert Geller, or forged carbon cufflinks outlined with carat gold. Once she realized it, she pulled back, wanting to seem reserved to the men.

But she also seemed excited. Excited by how two men were willing to fight for her affections, no matter how ridiculous the method of challenge was. Bet it made her feel special, didn't it? Social power tipped to her advantage and there were already other guys around the other tables checking her out. She pretended she didn't notice as she reveled in the attention, but Raymond saw through her veil.

Raymond had made a mistake directing Dylan to her. Truly, a lamb to the slaughter.

"I challenged you, so it's only fair you get to decide who goes first." Dylan shuffled his deck. Vitriol and resentment never left his tone.

Oh Dylan, what were you doing? All he knew about her was that she was pretty. That was it. Lacking in the experience does not cover how nonsensical this was. Shallowness was not something anyone should chase after, especially when she had no problem discarding him so carelessly at the moment's notice, and especially not to a genuine man of noble character.

More and more, she began to remind him of someone he would much rather forget. Not forget, dead. He wanted him dead for abandoning his responsibilities.

"Trudeau," Raymond put his hand on Dylan's shoulders. He must stop this to save Dylan's integrity. "Let's just go, this isn't—"

"Novak please," Dylan cut him off, slapping his hand off. "There's something I need to know."

Raymond backed off. Fine. If this was how Dylan want to deal with his issues, then Raymond had no obligation to continue trying. He did his part, now he was going to watch. Besides, it'd be advantageous for him to see what kind of mindset Travis would use to play his cards without Raymond revealing the same.

Oh, who was he kidding? Dylan would obviously win this. Not once was he ever knocked out of the duel during any of their tag duels and left it all up to Raymond to finish the battle. If Dylan could handle himself against two professionals while a novice dragged him down, then dueling alone would be even smoother of a ride.

No amount of luck could beat that level of skill, not even the kind that hit two jackpots.

Dylan turned back to face Travis. "Well?"

"Thank you, but I've decided that you may decide." Travis said as he shuffled his deck. "You'll need the advantage."

"Thanks, I never knew you were so kind…" Dylan responded with thick sarcasm no one could miss. Travis cut Dylan's deck into three and reorganized it. "I guess I'll have to return the favor."

"No need." Travis did the same.

"I insist." Dylan drew his starting hand. "You go."

"Why, thank you."

[TURN 1 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/5]

"I'll activate Destiny Draw." A pot of Greed already? "Discarding Destiny HERO Malicious lets me draw two cards."

"I normal summon Destiny HERO Drilldark, which lets me special summon Destiny HERO Celestial."

[ATK Destiny HERO Drilldark: DARK LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1200]

[ATK Destiny HERO Celestial: DARK LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1400]

"Banishing Malicious lets me summon another."

[DEF Destiny HERO Malicious: DARK LV/6 Warrior/Effect ATK/800 DEF/800]

"I tribute all three monsters to special summon Destiny HERO Dogma!"

[ATK Destiny HERO Dogma: DARK LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/3400 DEF/2400]

"I set two cards and end my turn."

[TURN 1 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/0]

"I draw."

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

"Dogma's effect activates!" Travis declared before Dylan could do anything. "Once, at your Standby Phase after I special summoned it this way, your LP are halved!"

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 — 4000 Hand/6]

Half of his life points already!? Four thousand damage without a single attack yet! That was the highest effect damage Raymond had ever seen in any of his duels. Before this, the highest was only five hundred. Combo with some Dylan's cards that would take even more of his life points, was a danger zone even he couldn't afford.

"I special summons Cyber Dragon Novus by sending Verstarkung! And when Novus is special summoned, I can—"

"No, you can't." Travis smirked. His hand, swift and slick, flipped up his two set cards. "I'm chaining D - Tactics! And building another chain with my other trap card, D - Tag Out! I get to shuffle Dogma into deck, send the top card of my deck to the grave, then special summon a Destiny HERO with the same level from my deck or grave, ignoring summoning conditions! The monster must be shuffled back to deck if it's destroyed."

[ATK Destiny HERO Plasma: DARK LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/1900 DEF/600]

"Plasma negates the effects of monsters you control; thus, Novus can't special summon Verstarkung!"

"Then D - Tactics resolves! If a level eight or higher Destiny HERO, or Destiny End Dragoon is special summoned, I can banish one card randomly from your hand, or one card from either your field or graveyard!" Travis picked up and moved Dylan's card out of the game without any warning or asking for any permission. "And I choose Novus!"

"Damn it." Dylan tightened his fist.

Impressive. Most impressive. Novus was a key card in bringing out the fullest potentially of Dylan's deck, without it, he must reliable on less favorable strategies. For Travis to intuitively know that meant that he was well-versed in the current format. Lesser men would assume Dylan had dueled Travis before with the same deck, but logically, in a competitive scene, people would change decks every year to keep the element of surprise.

And the top card Travis sent to his graveyard was a Disk Commander. An erratted Disk Commander, but still recognizable.

"Well then, I special summon Cyber Dragon!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"Next, I activate Cyber Converter!" Cyber Converter? Of all the duels they've been in together, Raymond had never seen Dylan pull that card out before. Keeping his cards close to his chest, was he? It shouldn't have surprised Raymond. "Cyber Converter allows me to special summon any light attribute, machine type monster from my deck and also treat its name as Cyber Dragon! That includes if it goes to the graveyard!"

[DEF Electromagnetic Turtle / Cyber Dragon: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Effect ATK/0 DEF/1800]

"Then I activate Machine Duplication! Since Electromagnetic Turtle is treated as a Cyber Dragon on field and in grave, I can special summon two original Cyber Dragons!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

[ATK Cyber Dragon: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"I now link summon Cyber Dragon Sieger!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

"Then I activate Cyber Rvsystems to special summon Cyber Dragon from my grave!"

Nice, not only did Dylan manage to get Electromagnetic Turtle in the graveyard to negate one battle phase, but he also had enough material to special summon another extra deck monster. And Raymond had a feeling exactly what monster Dylan was planning to summon.

"I xyz summon Cyber Dragon Nova."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

Just as predicted.

"Battle Phase! Cyber Dragon attacks Plasma!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 — 7800 Hand/0]

"Cyber Dragon Sieger attacks you directly!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/7800 — 5700 Hand/0]

"Nova attacks, and now that Plasma is gone, I can banish Cyber Dragon for it to gain twenty-one hundred more attack points!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 — 4200 DEF/1600]

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5700 — 1500 Hand/0]

"And to prevent you from coming back from that, I'm ranking up to Cyber Dragon Infinity!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/3: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 — 2700 DEF/1600]

"I end my turn."

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/4000 Hand/1]

That was… rather reckless. A more aggressive approach to dueling. Dylan would normally save as much of his monster as possible, mostly because his deck couldn't handle that much banishing. Cyberload Fusion and Cyber Network were the only cards that could recover his banished monsters.

Dylan was playing emotionally. Hatred might not be a right word, but it certainly seemed like it. Annoyance was too belittling. Bad temperament was the best way to describe it.

But could Raymond complain? Travis had virtually no cards on his field and no cards in his hand; any card he draws at this point could and would be negated. Furthermore, Travis could not afford to save that card for one more turn, since Cyber Dragon Infinity would destroy what remained of his life points.

Ironic. Destiny was not Travis's hero. It was already over.

[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/1500 Hand/0 — 1]

"I activate Dark Hole."

What a draw! If only it didn't come in such poor timing.

"Cyber Dragon Infinity negates!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/3 — 2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2700 — 2500 DEF/1600]

Travis, however, wasn't as devastated as he should be. Dylan didn't miss it, and neither did Raymond. Calm and collected, Travis reached for his graveyard pile and picked out two specific cards. That's when the realization hit both of them.

"I activate Celestial's effect in the graveyard, by banishing it along with Drilldark when I have no cards in hand, I can draw two cards."

Now Travis had two extra cards in his hand and Dylan used up his Infinity's effect for the turn. But so what? What could he possibly do with only two cards? As Raymond checked Travis's graveyard, there were no other cards whose effects could be activated. There was no way merely two cards could turn the tide.

"I normal summon my second Drilldark which special summons my second Celestial."

[ATK Destiny HERO Drilldark: DARK LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1200]

[ATK Destiny HERO Celestial: DARK LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/1600 DEF/1400]

"I now link summon Xtra HERO Cross Guard."

[ATK Xtra HERO Cross Guard: DARK Warrior/Link/Effect ATK/1600 LINK-2]

"When it's link summoned, I can special summon a Destiny HERO such as Disk Commander from my grave! And when Disk Commander is special summoned from the grave, I can draw another two cards!"

[DEF Destiny HERO Disk Commander: DARK LV/1 Warrior/Effect ATK/300 DEF/300]

"I activate Fusion Destiny!" Travis said it in a specific way that irked Dylan the wrong way. By Raymond's guess, it was intentional. "I send Destiny HERO Plasma and Destiny HERO Dogma from my deck to fusion summon Destiny End Dragoon!"

[ATK Destiny End Dragoon: DARK LV/10 Warrior/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/3000]

"D - Tactics banishes Sieger!" Again, Travis moved Dylan's card without permission. Not that it mattered due to Dylan not having anything to respond with. "Dragoon's effect activates, destroying Infinity and inflicting damage equal to its attack. Of course, I can't conduct battle this turn, but your little turtle would've done that anyway."

[TURN 3 Dylan Trudeau LP/4000 — 1500 Hand/1]

"I'll end my turn right there."

[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/1500 Hand/1]

Admittingly, that was one hell of a comeback. In one turn, he managed to overcome—no, dominate—Dylan's almost unbreakable field. Didn't stop there though, now he had the leverage. One more activation of Dragoon's effect and Dylan would lose the duel.

In every way Raymond tried looking at it, the end was nigh. Dylan would need to make his final turn count or else Dragoon would end him, by effect or by battle.

[TURN 4 Dylan Trudeau LP/1500 Hand/1 — 2]

"It's over, Travis." Raymond knew that smirk. It was the smirk that told everyone exactly what he was going to do: single-handedly destroy his opponent with a trap card, steal his girl, topple down capitalism, and seize the means of production all in one move. Discernibly, he's being facetious because communism was never going to be the answer. What he was thinking was that he knew that smirk all too well. "I activate Cyber Emergency to add Cyber Eltanin! And by banishing all light, machine monsters from my field and grave, I can special summon it!"

[ATK Cyber Eltanin: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Effect ATK/? — 3500 DEF/? — 3500]

"When Cyber Eltanin is special summoned, all other monsters on the field are sent to the graveyard!"

Yes! Now all Dylan needed to do was to attack him directly and the duel would be won!

"Good move." Travis complimented.

"Cyber Eltanin attacks you directly!"

"Just not good enough, mate." Travis's hand swoon to the one card he had in his hand. He slammed it to his graveyard pile, knowing all too well what it meant for him. "I discard Destiny HERO Dynatag to negate the battle damage. Then, we both take a thousand damage simultaneously."

[TURN 4 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/1500 — 500 Hand/1]

[TURN 4 Dylan Trudeau LP/1500 — 500 Hand/1]

So close. He was one attack away…

"Damn it… damn it!" Dylan wanted to explode, but he kept his calm.

Travis stole Dylan's smile. "Are you just going to sit there? Or are you going to take it like a man and admit defeat?"

"I…" Dylan was desperate, searching his graveyard for any card he could play to counter this conundrum. If Travis could do it, why couldn't he? But he couldn't, because he was not Travis. In a way, that was a good thing, but not in this case. Dylan's one card in his hand was useless, and it brought him pain to be so defeated. "I end…"

"Good." Travis almost cackled. "Good."

[TURN 5 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/500 Hand/0 — 1]

"During my Standby Phase, I can banish one Destiny HERO from my grave to special summon Destiny End Dragoon back to my field."

[ATK Destiny End Dragoon: DARK LV/10 Warrior/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/3000]

No way…

"Destiny End Dragoon destroys your Eltanin."

[TURN 5 Dylan Trudeau LP/500 — 0 Hand/1]

No freaking way.

Dylan lost!?

But—but how!? He was virtually unbeatable! He had the upper hand majority of the times! How could he possibly lose!? And how could a man have lucked into his draws that many times that not one card he drew was a hinder to his strategy!? First, a card to conveniently force Infinity to waste its effect, then conveniently a monster that could summon another, which then link summoned into a monster that summons and draw another two which were all useful to him! It chances of that happening were astronomical, almost comparable to…

Winning jackpot…

Raymond lost his words.

"Alright then, bird." Travis picked up his cards and offered his arm to the woman. The woman, to which Raymond had forgotten was there since he became engrossed with the duel. She sat up, finally out of her boredom. She sat through the whole thing instead of just leaving… what kind of skill did this have to keep her this interested in him!? "Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we catch that cab now?"

She tangled his arm with his. "Of course!"

And they walked out those doors, all giggling and flirting. They didn't leave much to the imagination of what they were going to do, especially when Travis's hand moved down from her waist to her rear. Again, she didn't resist.

The word incest came up in his mind, on how alike they were to Richard. Her blonde hair and excellent figure empathized on that key point, a clone with its gender reversed. No wonder he had hated her the moment he saw her.

Nevertheless, Dylan sat there alone, blue in defeat.

"What were you hoping to accomplish, Trudeau?" Raymond had to ask; he must distract himself before the similarities overrode his mood. Sure, it was a good thing Dylan didn't end up with such a loose woman that could've stole his dignity; Raymond should've put more thought into finding a good one for his dueling partner. Last thing he wanted was for more scumbags like his da— like Richard. But still… "Even if you had won, she still would've gone with him. She made up her mind."

Dylan didn't answer, probably too ashamed to confess that he actually thought that way. At some point during that moment, a thought crossed Raymond's mind that if Dylan had consumed too much fiction that the lines dividing it between reality had started to blur for him. Men who continue to play such childish games were often ones who find it difficult to grow up.

Trusting his experience, Dylan might be one of those who say that 'he tricked her, she didn't know any better' when everyone else knew that it took two to tango. Raymond couldn't believe that Dylan was one such man to…

Stop it, Raymond. It'd be too unkind to assume motive. Not on a man who's down.

Raymond sighed, patting Dylan on the back in an attempt to comfort him. "Trudeau, it's not that big of a deal, there's plenty of other fish in the sea."

"It's not about finding love, Novak." Dylan stood up from his chair. "If it was any other man, I wouldn't have bothered."

"So why did you challenge him?"

"Because Travis was not like any other man." Dylan shook his fist. God, did he want to express his anger, to go punch a wall or something to calm him down. Luckily, both of them knew the counter-productiveness of such rash decision. Dylan could only bottle it up. "He's… he's…"

"He's what?"

"HE'S ALWAYS AHEAD OF ME!" Dylan roared. The bottle exploded and the sudden outburst caught many attentions, from bar attendees to game players, but most discernibly, from the arcade security who were ready to intervene. Hell no, there was not going to be a repeat of what happened earlier on.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Raymond had to shout out. "He just stubbed his toe! Carry on!"

Stubbed his toe? Really? Whatever, that was his story and he was sticking with it.

Luckily, everyone else bought the excuse and went on with their daily lives. The security was a little bit suspicious as security always do, but they too backed down and returned to their positions.

"Sorry…" Dylan calmed down. He was on the verge of crying for God's sake! Raymond could only imagine the type of event that impacted Dylan this much to suffer such trauma. Raymond could've just chalked it up to emotional immaturity, but he knew Dylan wasn't like that. It contradicted his character; only mature men would have the kindness to help others, even somebody he knew would eventually be standing in his way.

"After all this time, I still can't beat him in the ONE DAMN THING I'm good at…" Dylan mumbled to himself. "Besides this game, I'm a fucking loser…"

Come on, he shouldn't be so hard on himself. So, what if he lost one game? It wasn't like anything was at stake; the loss didn't eliminate him from the tournament and Raymond gained new information on how exactly Travis played should they ever encounter him again.

Right out the gate, Travis had no interest in playing beatdown; pretty obvious since he never declared an attack throughout the entire duel. Most players would've triggered Electromagnetic Turtle's effect just to get it out of the way. Travis played it safe, very safe. Yet paradoxically, he would much rather sacrifice card advantage to inflict large amount of damage—damage which were still be far from the point of non-affordability, might he add—than to take it slow and retain control.

Clever, on the part of the organizers. Hosting a tournament where a duelist had to wait three turns instead of one to make his next move would surely erode anyone's patience. And Travis had hit his limit. Which meant Raymond's best bet was to stall him out as long as possible before he would become impatient. And haste, would lead to mistakes.

So yes, Raymond could say that they've gotten the better part of the encounter. Why couldn't Dylan see this?

"Come on Trudeau, cheer up." Raymond said. "You have work on that self-confidence of yours."

"I just…" Dylan stuttered. "When you told me to list off my charms…"

"Yes?"

"I was afraid." Dylan finally tried to look him in the eye as well. "I was afraid because I really have nothing else going for me."

Afraid? That question made him afraid? And how he said 'nothing'… in such a way unlike a normal person would say it. Did… did Dylan need help? A therapeutic kind of help? That's impossible; being anxious did not mean anything serious. Although…

"You want to talk about it?" Wait what? No! Raymond was not some emotional tampon. All other people outside of his family pushed themselves and bitched their problems onto him like an alien invasion. He never invited them, but that didn't stop them. So then why the hell did he offer it to him?

"You really are a good guy, Raymond…" Dylan tried smiling. Raymond? Not Novak? Were things so serious? "But no thanks Novak, I don't want to bother you."

He sounded so fake. Hopefully, acting was not a career choice Dylan had been considering, because that would lead to a life of washed-up poverty. He was better suited for a job as a veterinarian than a life of living one lie after another.

Something was hurting Dylan however, no matter how many times Raymond tried to dismiss it. It was clear to him now that denial—or rather, the rejection—of it did not make it go away, nor did it make it any less of a difficulty.

Hold on a second. Raymond recognized this.

 _"Are you okay, Raymond?"_

 _"I said I'm fine, sis!"_

 _"You're not fine, you're bleeding! Oh my God, have you been stabbed!? We have to get you to the hospital!"_

 _"What I need is get to work! I can't afford not to! Not after… not after…"_

"Trudeau, I'm going to ask you a question. And I want you to answer it honestly." Dylan was surprised by Raymond this time. It was the threatening roar of the fabled chimera; it took too long for Raymond to perfect this skill from all the beatings he took for his family. Like hypnosis, Dylan paid attention, mesmerized by its verbal grasp it held on him, whether he wanted to or not. "And I want you to answer as honestly as possible; directly from the bottom of your heart."

Dylan nodded in agreement.

"What do you want to do with your life?"

Dylan said nothing.

No direction.

No talents.

Only the game.

"I see…"

Travis demolished more than Dylan's win streak, he demolished Dylan's pride. Dylan's only pride, his greatest accomplishment he had so far in his life. Steal a dollar from a rich man and he wouldn't care. Steal a dollar from a homeless man and he would go hungry for a night, possibly even die. That was, of course, assuming the poor man didn't fight to the death to reclaim that single note.

The next time Raymond found himself in a church—if there was going to be a next time—he would be praying for Dylan to elevate himself. It'd be such a wasted potential to be only good at card games.

"I think it's time we call it a night." Raymond stated. It was getting past five minutes after nine.

"I think you're right, Novak." Dylan sighed, beginning to walk towards the front exit. Raymond followed him outside, where the summer night's heat hit him. "Where are you staying? I can drive you there."

Raymond waved him off. "You can just drive me to a park or any place with a wide field. I'll camp there."

"Wait, you don't have a hotel room?"

"No, I never planned to. That was why I've been carrying around this thing the whole time." Raymond recalibrated his backpack. "What, did you think I liked carrying this thing around?"

"Oh…" Dylan said. "Would you like to share a room with me then?"

"Oh no, Trudeau." Raymond backed off immediately. "I've already troubled you enough, you don't need to—"

"Please, Novak." Dylan cut him off. He was still disheartened; he couldn't hide that. And yet he was willing to do this. "Let me do it. It's the best I can do."

Raymond wanted to say no. If any more, he'd be a parasite on the Dylan's generosity. And yet, Raymond could feel the selfish part of him giving into that role of the parasite. After all, that was his identity throughout his entire youth, wasn't it? Every time he left the house, he had to make his mother and sister worried if they'd see him in one piece again. He had to use force to get them to leave him alone.

Accept it; he still had that parasitic instinct within him. He'd like to think he had been slowly killing it as he grew each year older, but of course it was still there. Why not give into it once in a while?

"Thanks, Dylan." Raymond sighed. "I really hope there were more people like you."

"I really hope not."

/-/

The shower was okay. Soap was off-limits since there was only one box and he wasn't the one who paid for the room; liquid hand-soap made to suffice, and scarcely as possible. It felt weird, comparable to being in a glass tank with alien goo. Awfully specific, but it was the best way of describing it. Or maybe that was only his mind not used to the idea of using hand soap for showering; they are both soap after all.

Twice he bumped his head on the ceiling when he climbed in and out of the bathtub. The bedroom ceiling was just fine; whoever thought that the ceiling in the bathroom should be so low for some reason should consider a different line of work.

His underwear and pants were a little bit wet from the humility, but what could he do? He was already spending the night with another guy in the same room; did he really want to add him walking across covered by only his towel to get his clothes? Wet pants were much better than awkwardly explaining himself how he wasn't some homosexual pervert.

Wow, that sounded wrong.

Enough of that, it was time he got out of the bathroom.

"I'm finished with the shower, Trudeau. You can use it." Raymond walked out of it as he continued to dry his hair with the towel.

Nothing was luxurious, nor was anything that screamed cheap. A fairly decent place to stay for two nights.

Dylan was sitting on his bed like it was his couch with his legs folded, reading some book. He wasn't in his pajamas as he originally intended due to Raymond becoming an unexpected guest, so he kept on today's clothes and would sleep in clothes intended for tomorrow. Yes, he had pajamas; at least they weren't ugly looking.

As soon as Dylan looked up from his book, his eyes immediately spelled out a subconscious message once he caught the sight of Raymond's torso: Genetic unfairness. Some men were just born to be tall, strong, and handsome. Raymond could practically read Dylan's envious thoughts, like all men before him.

Eh, Raymond was used to it.

"What's with the scars?" Dylan asked instead, noticing them once his self-pitying mini-session was over. "That is an unusual amount."

Yeah… sometimes his opponents liked to spice things up a bit with 'accessories'…

"I'm an adventurous guy, like taking risks." Technically the truth. Raymond cracked open a smirk and began flexing his biceps. "What? Did you think I got my physique by doing lazy work?"

He proceeded to show off his abs as well. With each single flex, every part of his muscle became more refined and harder. Hard enough to compete with an armor if anyone were stupid enough to punch them with their bare fists. Asserting dominance had never been easier.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Dylan rolled his eyes. "Why don't you do the t-pose while you're at it?"

Raymond cackled. Oh, this was fun, this was so much—wait… was Dylan actually pouting? Raymond resisted the urge to cackle even more. He was running the risk of turning into a villain at this point. Who knew sadistically kicking a man right in his ego would have so much entertainment in it?

Literally everyone.

Out of mercy, Raymond decided to stop it. And oh boy, did he feel like Adonis when he granted that mercy. He was tired anyway; his bed was on the floor. Again, he was an unexpected guest, which meant that Dylan only rented out a one-person hotel room. Looks like his camping gears aren't useless after all.

"So, what are you reading?" Raymond slowly killed his laughter. He almost crashed onto the bed had he not remembered that his hair was still wet. So instead, he was reaching for the remote, planning to flip through channels until something amused him.

"The Bible."

Raymond's hand didn't go any further.

"You carry the Bible around with you?" Raymond asked. And to his regret, he may have been a little hostile when he asked that question.

Dylan didn't pick up on that. "It was in the drawer."

Ah yes, the Gideon Bibles. A bunch of busybodies who couldn't leave other people well alone, decided to impose their backwards morals founded by unintelligent desert people because it 'would be a gracious act, wholly in keeping with the divine mission'. It was a miracle that they still put them in hotels, fully intending for it to be taken free of charge, considering how unreliable donation money are.

Couldn't believe people still thought it was a good idea to donate to them. Times were changing; either they were going to accept that or die in irrelevancy.

"You believe in that…" Nonsense. He was about to say nonsense.

 _"I will honor what I've said."_

…

"You believe in that there's a God?" Raymond rephrased his question.

"Yes." For the first time, Dylan showed strength. True, unmoving strength. "Yes, I do."

Raymond didn't know if he should be impressed or disgusted. That would certainly explain away the naïveté he saw the first time they meet. They go hand-in-hand, true since the dawn of civilization.

Well that wasn't fair to say now, was it? His mind was beating himself over the head over this kind of thinking. Look at what he did to get here: he admitted defeat, didn't he remember? On his knees, begging for it to stop… just how He would like it. Raymond would be a hypocrite now.

"So, you're good Christian boy, eh?" There was an attempt at a joke. Wasn't sure if it was a good one or not. "What denomination?"

"Protestant."

Mom was Protestant too. What a coincidence… What a Goddamn coincidence. What else did they share in common? Endless buoyancy, blind trust, and altruistic charity to…?

Wait… no… no way…

"Why are you reading it anyway?" Raymond had to distract himself from that ridiculous delusion. Mom was Mom, no one besides his sister was ever going to match up to her. "I thought they already taught everything in Sunday School."

"They taught the basics." Dylan's words dispersed the smoke and mirrors. "But mostly, I read one chapter of it whenever I feel like I need some guidance."

Raymond's nails were starting to dig deep into his palm, and considering that he frequently cut his nails, that was something improbable.

Guidance? Bullshit. Where was this guidance prior in his life? Where was this oh so great divine intervention when he was five!? Where was He to tell his Dad to fucking stay and be faithful? Where was He to teach that disgusting piece of shit that he had a duty to be honor-bound to his family!? Didn't He have a responsibility to His creations? Then why was He more neglectful than a slut with a failed abortion!?

God the Father? All fucking bullshit.

What did Mom see in Him!? He brought nothing but countless disappointments into her life, into all their lives! He wanted answers! Why—

Forget it. Past was the past.

"So, what are you reading right now?" Raymond calmed himself. As much as he would like to go off and a rant right about now, he just didn't have to the mental strength to unleash such scrutiny and vileness anymore.

"Joshua chapter ten; I'm up to verse eight." Then a light bulb went off in his head. "How about you try it, Novak?"

"Oh no, I'm not brave enough for super…" Superstition. He had to stop himself again. Hypocrite. "I don't think I'd like to hear what He has to say."

"Come on, just try it for once." Dylan urged. "I was in the same shoes as you back in the day, you know?"

Doubt it. Otherwise, he would not be this kind. But Raymond wanted answers, didn't he? It'd be disingenuous to cover his ears screaming 'La la la, I can't hear you' when someone was willing. Just for a moment, let's pretend that somehow God was going to speak to him through His temporary prophet. Okay, Raymond could do this. God was here for tonight.

Heck, it'd probably help if Raymond imagined Him in this very room, looking like an average man named Jack. "Okay, hit me a verse."

Dylan closed the book, then closed his eyes. His fingers ran across the edges until he randomly decided to stop at a certain page and reopened the book again. Though he didn't open his eyes, until he waved his finger around in the air and struck at a random passage.

"Proverbs 16:5" Dylan began. "The Lord detests all the proud of heart. Be sure of this: They will not go unpunished."

His heart sank. What the hell did that mean? Punished? Were things going to get worse? Impossible. It must be a coincidence. It must be wrong. Why the hell else was he here then? This cannot be some sick joke. This cannot be some sick prank God set up to play with him!

Yes. Think about it. He didn't bring Raymond here his sake, he was brought here for his mother's sake. Remember that. He was destined to win this tournament. The punishment would come later. Fine, he'd take whatever punishment as long as He left his family out of it.

"That's not a good verse; sorry about that. Let me try again." Dylan laughed it off, ignorant of his roommate's subconscious dread and relief. He repeated the process and his finger struck once more. "Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, 'What are you making?' Does your work say, 'The potter has no hands'? Woe to the one who says to a father, 'What have you begotten?' or to a mother, 'What have you brought to birth?'… Isaiah 45:9-10"

…Were those the charges God was bringing against him…?

…Was 'Jack' asking Raymond to forgive his poor excuse of a father?

It disturbed Raymond that he would take even a second to weigh it against his sister's life on the scale. The answer should be obvious: what was a lifetime grudge compared to a lifetime of true familial love?

However, Raymond would like to put that answer on hold.

"Don't mind it, Raymond, I'm sure it was just bad luck." Dylan tried again. "One person gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty. A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed. People curse the one who hoards grain, but they pray God's blessing on the one who is willing to sell. Proverbs 11:24-26."

Raymond couldn't figure that one out, and he was pretty sure he didn't need to. It was an irrelevant verse; nothing to decipher here.

"See? I told you!" Dylan exclaimed. "Third time's the charm!"

Dylan paused for a moment, then closed the book and presented to Raymond. An eyebrow rose at the sight, wondering if Raymond had the capacity to do such ritual. "Now do mine."

"Sure, why not." Whatever made him feel better. Raymond grabbed the Bible out of his hands and did the exact same procedure. Boy, did it made him feel a little childish, waving his finger around like a wand and he a magical wizard in starry pajamas.

"Whoever brings ruin on their family will inherit only wind, and the fool will be servant to the wise. Proverbs 11:29"

It seemed like Raymond was still the recipient. Although, Dylan didn't look too thrilled about it either, especially puzzling when he thought it applied to him. No way Raymond wasn't the recipient; this perfectly applied to his father, so there could be no one else. Promise of sweet revenge? 'Jack' sure did know how to be a smooth talker.

"I'm guessing that's not the message you wanted to hear?" Raymond said.

"Do you mind doing it again?" Dylan was, for some reason, making that same face he made when he lost to Travis. The verse struck a nerve with him.

"No problem." Raymond slammed the book shut and tried again. Oh well, it was none of his business to intervene. If Dylan didn't want to share his emotions, then he didn't want to share. "If a man has two wives, and he loves one but not the other, and both bear him sons but the firstborn is the son of the wife he does not love, when he wills his property to his sons, he must not give the rights of the firstborn to the son of the wife he loves in preference to his actual firstborn, the son of the wife he does not love. He must acknowledge the son of his unloved wife as the firstborn by giving him a double share of all he has. That son is the first sign of his father's strength. The right of the firstborn belongs to him. Deuteronomy 21:15-17"

This was only more confirmation on who exactly was intended to hear this. It would've put a smile on his face, had it not said that he was the first of his father's strength.

"I really don't see what that has to do with me." Dylan said bewilderingly.

"Don't think too much about it." Raymond closed the book and tossed it back at Dylan, then crashed onto his floor bed. "I'm going to sleep early. Good night."

"Good night, Novak." Dylan said. "You want me to read you one more verse as you fall asleep?"

"Sure, whatever." Raymond didn't care as he felt this blanket of darkness surrounding him. Little by little, his senses began to dull from the day's activities. First the eyes as it grew heavy, then his touch, and finally his ears. But before he sent himself to dreamland, his ears were still able to take in one more message.

"You neglected the Rock who begot you and forgot the God who gave you birth."

* * *

 **Quick Note: Xtra HERO Cross Guard is what I think is the TCG name of Destiny HERO Crossguy. I did this because at the time of this writing, the OCG names are the only ones available, so I had to make somethings up. Destiny HEROes never have the suffix -guy in the TCG.**

 **TCG: Western cards.**

 **OCG: Asian cards.**

 **I'm going to be honest with you guys: I am so fucking sick of planning and writing out duels already. So, the remaining part of this story would have only single duels instead of matches now. I'm going have to rewrite that part about best-of-two matches on the third day.**

 **I will say that due to this, there will only be three duels left. Well, three duels planned so far at least.**

 **I'm sorry, but it's really a drain on me to constantly check over and over again to see if I had made any mistakes.**

* * *

 **2/15/19**


	6. Chapter 6

**I would just like to formally apologize for the 4-month delay. Life got in the way. Also, I would like to thank VeryCoolPerson for favoriting this story! Thank you so much!**

* * *

"Wait, you once volunteered for the Salvation Army?" Raymond asked, amused. Being entertained first thing in the morning by almost unbelievable stories was not the first thing he thought how the day would start. Raymond, sitting here in the open picnic area of the hotel, which was right next to the parking lot.

The hotel in question was located somewhere in Queens county, and despite being part of the metropolis, it was surprisingly scenic with its green grass and singing trees. To this day, he was fascinated by how much the birds realize that their language was music to the human ear.

"Hell yeah!" Dylan laughed his butt off, with his mouth full of French fries and moist with Pepsi from the last sip. "We like the Walmart of charities. We couldn't turn away anybody because that's what God wants, no matter how far they've flown over the cuckoo's nest."

Dylan twirled his finger around the side of his head. "Anyway, we had a regular called Teresa, a bearded man who wore pink tutus and would come in every day to see if we have barbie dolls. One day, he came in very anxiously and asked for a razor. I told him we didn't have one and he started twitching and saying, 'I need a razor. Stop hiding them. Just give me a razor.' But with more cursing."

"Sounds lovely." Raymond sarcastically quipped.

"When I tried to direct him to another store, he exploded and yelled, 'I have a disease growing on my face! I am a woman! This beard is a disease on my face! You don't understand! You don't have a disease on your face! I need a razor!' At this point an elderly Italian woman ran over and yelled at him in that Italian gibberish that only they can do, and he freaked out and bailed out. He came back the next day, back on his meds, and still had a beard."

"Did he at least get some help?" This guy didn't just need meds, he needed therapy. Dysphoria was a very serious illness, though unlikely he'd get it. Money was essentially lifeblood now. Raymond understood all too well of that.

"I don't know; that's that last I've seen of him." Dylan slurped. "Reminds me of the Tampa Shoelicker. He was a twenty-something year-old fella who'd run around and ask to lick the bottoms your dirty shoes from bottom to top. It went on for at least six months, maybe even a year."

"You have some serious war stories." Raymond jokingly said. That was, unless of course, Dylan was only stealing stories from the internet like Reddit. But maybe it was safe to trust him to be honest at this point. "You're like a human jukebox today; what happened?"

"Sugar and salty junk food are like my cocaine, Novak." Dylan munched down on his second burger. If Raymond was any other guy, he'd be shocked at the amount, but he wasn't, because Raymond ate as much as Dylan did. Another thing to add to the list of what they have in common. "It's very dangerous for me to eat the two together."

Skeptical, Raymond raised a brow and crossed his arms. Spine leaned aligned to the backrest. What more could Dylan say to surprise him? "What happened the last time you mixed the two together?"

"I ran someone over."

Raymond would've choked if he hadn't finished his breakfast at this point. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

"With that little scooter?" Raymond pointed at Dylan's motor. It looked to be in pristine condition, never having an accident before in its use. It couldn't be, as an accident would always leave some sort of scar, no matter how much effort was put into fixing it.

"Nope. It was with my mom's car."

"Damn…" Raymond was certainly flabbergasted, to say the least. "Anyone hurt?"

"Thankfully not. I wouldn't be sitting here with you if somebody was hurt; Dad would've killed me." Dylan chuckled. It died down, as thankfulness replaced it. "I am so grateful that the people I struck had mercy on me."

And suddenly, both of them said nothing for the past couple of minutes. Raymond didn't know how it happened, why it happened, it just happened.

Awkward was one word Raymond never thought he'd use, but it certainly was the best way to describe it. As if they've frozen each other's tongue, wondering if the other would say the first word. Heck, neither of them even made an attempt to move the conversation along. Well, at least he wasn't making an attempt; Dylan had a breakfast to finish.

Raymond had an urge to ask some questions, any questions: 'How's life?', 'Got any best friends?', or 'What are you planning to do with the prize money if you win?', not whatever this was. But thankfully, he didn't, particularly on that last one. Raymond didn't want the guilt of knowing if Dylan had someone he needed to save too. Even if he did, it wouldn't change his destiny—what he hoped to be his destiny—but it felt nice not knowing.

"So, what now?" Dylan finally broke the ice. More accurately, finished the ice that melted into his soda and the rest of the hamburgers and fries.

"Hmm?"

"We've got a whole day before the second and last day of the tournament starts. What do you suppose we do?"

"I don't know," Raymond shrugged. "Explore the city?"

Dylan waved it off. "We already did that yesterday."

Raymond seriously doubted that they could've explore the entire city in just one day. It was New York City For crying out loud, the densest population in the entirety of the United States; there are bound to be places they didn't explore. Then again, he wasn't the one being a host, so he had no right to complain. And how inconsiderate of Raymond; this may have been his first visit, but that didn't mean it was also Dylan's first.

"So, we're just going to wait around until the tournament starts?" Dylan continued. "That's no fun; how about you tell me your stories?"

Raymond tensed. "Me?"

"Yeah! I've been sharing things this whole time; it's your turn now!"

"Oh no," Raymond chuckled fretfully. "You don't want to hear my stories."

"Why not?" Dylan chortled. "It's not like you've done anything illegal. You look like a straight-up guy to me."

Raymond's silence was deafening. Dylan carried on with his happy-go-lucky attitude until it took him almost half a minute to pick up the signal that something wasn't right. It took another half minute for Dylan to piece together that something was definitely wrong with Raymond's bodily response to that last sentence. Then, the realization hit him in the head like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my God… you have done something illegal." Dylan said with jaws dropped and eyes wide. "What is it?"

"First of all, I haven't done anything illegal." Raymond quickly and vehemently denied the accusation. "Second, even if I had, why would I confess it to someone I met just yesterday?"

"I don't have motorcycle insurance." Dylan quickly blurted out. "Now tell me yours."

Okay, Raymond never asked for that information, so it didn't count. It wasn't like suddenly he owed Dylan an explanation on what he hid in his closet. Sharing was caring, and he did not care one bit. Well, maybe he did care a little bit, since not having insurance was just asking for trouble to come. This 'It'll never happen to me' way of thinking was a dangerous one. "That's a rather reckless thing to do."

"Yeah, well, tight budgets would do that to you." Dylan sighed, reminiscent of his past mistakes. "Take my advice, never get addicted to the smell of new cards while you have your parents' credit card information. Before you know it, you've spent over a thousand dollars on cards that'll tank below fifty-percent of what it was worth when you bought it."

Dylan stopped himself before he rambled on further. "So, what did you do?"

"I told you: I haven't done anything illegal."

Dylan wasn't buying it. Or at least, he wasn't satisfied with that kind of answer. He wanted more, he wanted to be entertained. Which, given the context, was understandable since he was playing the royal jester for so long. This type of boredom was the same one the tabloids exploit sensational stories about things no one outside of its fandom would really give a damn about. Then, Raymond understood that Dylan was desperately trying to pass the time without it being so uneventful.

Raymond sighed. "Alright, how about I tell the time…" Oh God, he really was going to do this.

"Back in the day, you didn't understand how… um… when I was a little older than eight." He stuttered. "Back in the day, when you went to porn sites…"

Dylan's attention intensified the second he heard the word 'porn'. Oh boy, was he in for an interesting story. "…You didn't really understand how your parents knew that you went there. At least, I just knew my mom could figure it out. But I didn't know how, so I thought, 'Okay, if I go, I'm going to have to make the most out of it.' I crossed this border; how do I make the most out of it?"

"You just went in all the way?" Dylan tried holding back his cackling. It didn't work out. And they both knew what he meant by that.

No. This was before he found out that he had sticky white stuff stored inside of his genital. In other words, way before puberty.

"No. I decided I was going to print all these pictures."

"Uh huh." Dylan nodded, smirking.

"We had a very fancy Wi-Fi printer. As I was printing, I realized, 'Oh God, what have I done? This is terrible.' So, I cancelled all the prints." Raymond swallowed his regret and pressed onwards with the story. He could do this; he felt like a slave been whipped into telling the truth. "And then a few days later, my sister busts into my room with a bunch of printed out pictures."

Dylan bursted out laughing like a mad man, falling over himself as his weight shifted too heavily on one side of the seat and lost balance. That didn't bother Dylan as much as it should, as he continued gasping for air.

"And she told me, 'So, you like girls with big titties, eh?' And I just grabbed the pictures and locked myself in for the rest of the day."

"'Finally, sis! Thanks! I've been waiting for these for days!'" Dylan imitated what he thought to be the young version of Raymond in his head. Raymond, meanwhile, slumped his shoulders. He felt even more embarrassed when a stranger in a hood passed by; great, now there was another one who had heard his tale. Damn it. "Clearly, you were an innovator, Novak! Taking that extra step!"

Okay. Raymond was done. He fulfilled his obligation. No need to continue on how Reynalda decided to tell Mom all about his perfectly natural fetish. Or the rest of her friends. Friends, by the way, started making innuendos like 'MEGA MILK' said as if they were big, bold letters floating above his head. Or across their breasts.

"Wait, but that isn't illegal! That's just embarrassing!" Dylan retorted.

"I can't tell you illegal stories if I've never done them." Raymond lied again. He told an embarrassing story; what more could Dylan want? Was he not entertained!?

Dylan groaned softly. "Fine, I'll just secretly think you're some sort of drug dealer."

"It's not a secret if you say it out loud."

"You know what I mean."

At that moment, Dylan got up and stretched his limbs. He better, after that huge breakfast he just had, or else that'd be useless fat he'd be gathering up in there. He twisted and turned, at which point so loud that Raymond could hear the snap of his bones. "Well, I'm planning to just walk around the neighborhood until I find something to do. You can do whatever you want to do, and we'll meet up back here at eight."

"Sounds fine to me."

Dylan then reached down, but then stopped. Something was wrong. "Wait, where's my bag?"

"Which bag?"

"The bag that has all my cards."

"Isn't it right—" Raymond crunched down to look. It wasn't there. And Raymond knew it was supposed to be there because he saw it with his own eyes beforehand. And as far as he could tell, Dylan hadn't touched it since they've began their breakfast.

They began searching frantically. Left and right, up and down. Nowhere was his bag found. Unless it magically grew some legs and ran away, it must be around here somewhere.

"Novak, does that look like my bag or is it just a coincidence?" Dylan said, pointing out the same stranger who passed by them a few minutes before. The stranger with the hood, and a curve-handle umbrella which hanged a bag that was remarkably similar to Dylan's. No, it was exactly the same. And that stranger was holding the umbrella by the tip, not the handle.

It was too suspicious. It was a thief.

"Hey, excuse me!" Dylan called out. What was he doing!? He just gave away their element of surprise! Now they definitely had the stranger's attention. "You in the hood with the umbrella!"

At that second, the hooded stranger took off.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" Raymond roared, already in pursuit, jumping over the table. He didn't just run. He pounced.

His legs swung viciously, as far out as he could. As soon as that happened, it stomped at the speed of sound and propelled him closer to the scumbag who was slowing. His heart beat faster and the adrenaline demanded his body to rev it up to overdrive. And although running was never his strong suit, he was doing fairly well.

He was a predator who spotted a prey. Moment by moment, he was catching up. As the thief turned back to look at how far he had gotten, Raymond cracked a smile when the thief realized how close he was with his frightened eyes.

He was going to hunt this scum down as if it was the last thing he did. The thief shouldn't think that he had evade Raymond yet; once in his crosshairs, always would be in his crosshairs.

"ARGH!" Both of they yelled as Raymond tackled the thief to the ground. The bag flew forward from them, a distance none of them could close without the other intervening. The thief tried to get up, but Raymond just dragged him back down. He wasn't going anywhere. Raymond tried aiming for his kneecap, ready to strike down with the strength of a charging hammer. The thief was, however, too quick and Raymond struck the concrete ground instead. His bones endured, but it was nevertheless an arduous endeavor.

The thief made another attempt to escape, and once again, Raymond pulled him back down. He almost got away with it too; if he attempted a third try, Raymond might not be so lucky. His time was running out. Raymond's hand ran through the thief's body as if he was molesting him. It had to be there somewhere; Raymond reached into the jacket to feel if there were any pockets, much to the resistance of the thief.

Raymond was stronger, there was no denying that. That was why the thief also reached into one of his pockets and pulled out something small.

A sharp pain pierced Raymond's abdomen. Specifically, the lateral lower quadrant of the abdomen.

"ARGH!" Raymond screamed in agonizing pain. It was then the thief seized his opportunity and fled the scene, taking with him the bag as he ran. Raymond tried to chase, but the pain forced him to collapse to the ground. It didn't matter; he got what he needed right in his hand.

Dylan finally caught on to him, not used to the pace. His face was already burning red because of his lack of exercise. "A… thief…"

"Yeah…" Raymond slowly got up from the pavement, clutching his abdomen.

"I've always heard stories about people trying to steal valuable cards during tournaments…" Dylan huffed and puffed. It was going to take a while for normal breath to return to him. "I can't believe this is happening to me."

"Don't worry, we'll get it back." Raymond assured.

"Get it back? How?" Dylan's eye then caught the red spilling out from Raymond's body.

"I have his driver's license." Raymond smirked, waving said card like a triumphant flag flying over the battlefield. Novak was going to grab the whole wallet, but he opted for just a card instead. He rather not tip-off the thief that he knew that bastard's identity. He was a master of pickpocketing, a skill born out of necessity whenever some asshole decided he wasn't going to pay up his end of the bet whenever Raymond won.

"Novak…" Dylan gasped, not at all paying attention to what Raymond just said. "You're stabbed…"

Raymond looked down at the bleeding wound, which was dripping onto the ground en masse, then up at Dylan. "Yeah, I know."

"We have to get you to a hospital." Dylan became more frantic. Maybe Dylan was one of those who would almost faint at the sight of blood, because he certainly was acting like it. If that was the case, then this guy had never gone to a blood drive. Which was odd.

Or maybe it was just Raymond's distorted sense of urgency and on how much blood loss was too much.

"Can't. I'm only visiting, remember? I don't have coverage." Besides, it was non-lethal. The right upper quadrant has the liver and the big veins from the rest of the body, the left upper quadrant has the spleen and the big abdominal arteries; the kidneys and their blood supply are deep to the intestines at about the level of the belly button. He was stabbed in none of those places. And from his experience, he could walk this injury off.

"Who cares if you don't have coverage!? You need help!" In a way, it was kind of touching that Dylan could care more about Raymond's well-being than his possessions so much that he blocked out the information that'd catch this criminal who wronged the both of them.

"What I need is a box of bandages and alcohol." Raymond began walking away. He turned head towards Dylan despite walking away from him. "Call the police!"

"Wait!" Dylan cried out behind him. "Where are you going!?"

"I'm going to get myself treated!" But first, Raymond had to call someone. Conveniently, there was a payphone nearby. How nostalgic it was to find some of them still existing in this day. He put the quarters in and dialed the number. If he wasn't answering, then it was a good chance that he was still in jail. If he picked up, he was definitely out on bail. Of course, he wouldn't be facing charges in the first place if he had just followed Raymond through on that roof and jumped.

"Hello? Who's this?" The person on the other line picked up. So, he was out on bail, then.

"Bob, this is Djokovic." A pseudonym. Because there was no way he would ever give out his real name to people dealing in illegal businesses. Even if Bob had been generous to sponsor his matches. "Are you still able to move about while on bail?"

"The cops aren't watching me, if that's what you're asking."

"Good, good…" Raymond looked at the name of the criminal who was in his crosshairs. "I need you to do me a favor."

* * *

Raymond couldn't believe he was back to a place like this again. Usually, it was always at some back alleyway where daylight never seemed to reach, a fitting symbolism for the light of civilization and ethics dared not to shine on such cesspool. But not this time. This time, he was at another motel, half miles east from where Raymond and Dylan were staying at.

Raymond continued to clutch right on his stab wound. Although he had it patched up, it didn't feel any better. Luckily, he left before the police could arrive or else, they would've never let him go. He climbed the steps, leading to the second-floor balcony, one step at a time. Even for a thief, he hadn't expected someone could risk attempted murder charges for something that was worth seven-times less than what sentence he could've faced if he was caught.

Room 217. That was the room number Bob provided for him. A favor for his most lucrative cash-cow. It'd be in his best interest to exact vengeance on whomever threatened his prized employee, especially if that said someone took a Goddamn knife and shanked him in broad daylight.

What Bob didn't know, was that the favor might've been Raymond's severance package.

This place reeks of inferior… trash. Partially, literal trash clustering around the dumpster, which looked to be raided by the local homeless population for anything recyclable. In fact, one was doing so right now, coming about on his worn cart strolling with one broken wheel.

As Raymond cleared the stairs, he was met with a familiar face walking in his direction. The man who Raymond met but was never formally introduced the night before. Brown hair, well-oval eyes, and an all too stereotypical aura of Britain.

"Oi… pardon…" Travis paused and speculated. The stairs were kind of narrow, so they were forced to be in each other's way. "Have I met you before?"

Raymond almost rolled his eyes to the sky above. What a coincidence that he would be here. But then again, what was he doing in this dump anyway? Didn't he win the lottery twice? Surely, he could afford to live in some stay better. Or was Travis a secret drug addict who came to this place to get off on crystal meth or something else?

"Yeah, I have, haven't I?" Travis persisted. "You're that guy who was with Dylan last night! You're here to buy cards too?"

Cards? Was there a shop around here somewhere? Impossible. Raymond scooped the place; there was no card shops around here. Unless, Travis was talking about the regular delis that sell starter decks and a few booster packs as a side hustle. But those couldn't possibly be worth much.

"No."

"Oh, so you're here for weed, then?"

"Weed?" Did Raymond look like a Goddamn hippie? Hell no. It would be insulting to be compared to those dirty, dread-locked, tie-dyed, potheads wearing the same dead shirt from the day they've dropped out of high school.

"Yeah mate, everybody loves weed in this place."

Oh, now Raymond knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was a cesspool of decadence. And this was coming from someone who was used to sharing the same space with obnoxious people from the ghettos.

"Anyway, you seem like a swell bloke; why don't we have a chat? I'm planning to visit that little coffee shop over there," Travis pointed at the two-floor building across the street. "Why don't you come with?"

"Sorry, I'd like to stay and talk, but I don't have time." Raymond pressed onwards. "Goodbye."

"Well, that was a great conversation." Travis sarcastically remarked before continuing on his merry way. Then, he shrugged. "Oh well."

Travis was out of sight before he knew it, and Raymond was standing right in front of the door of 217. There was a fear in the back of his mind that maybe Bob got the wrong number. But Bob's connections were reliable, no matter how sketchy they were, they always get the job done.

So, how should he do this? Break in through the window next to the door and enter that way? Well, he already had a stabbed stomach; don't want to reopen that wound after countless efforts to stop the bleeding. Climbing over and opening a window from the opposite side was out of the question too.

If it was some regular lock, Raymond would've just picked it. But it was an electronic one with only a card slide, of which he had absolutely no experience in.

This was all assuming that the thief was in there. If he wasn't, then Raymond would have to wait on probably hours before he would check in for the night. As for the police? They weren't informed, at least, Raymond didn't call them. Not yet. Not when Raymond hadn't had his turn yet.

Then, the stench of weed permeating out from an air vent gave him an idea.

He knocked.

"Who that?" A male voice called out from within. So, the thief was inside. Already, Raymond could make a couple of assessments. One, he was stupid as hell; he should've noticed that his driver's license was missing by now and probably being used against him at this very moment. Two, he was stupid as hell; he just committed a crime, which common sense dictates that he should always keep a low profile. Answering 'Who that?' was not keeping a low profile. This may be easier than expected.

"Yo bro!" Raymond impersonated the voice of an obnoxious little twat whose brain was only thinking of fucking bitches and chilling out with his face buried in a mountain of cocaine. It wasn't that long since Raymond graduated, so their daily vernacular was still somewhat familiar. Words like: 'Lit', 'Bumping', 'Hip', 'Hella', 'Dope', 'Dope-Ass', and surely other insufferable terms he would rather purge from his memory. "You ordered some 'gas'?"

'Gas' was slang for weed for anyone who didn't want to get caught. He knew way too much social cues for his own benefit. As Raymond picked up on the shuffling of approaching footsteps, he slouched onto the door in an angle where the peephole could not see him and his face away from the window with the hood hiding his blonde hair. His body was slouched in a way that made him appear to be drunk, and not purposefully hiding his face. "Bruh, open up man, I'm so high right now!"

"I ain't wanna buy your weed."

"Dude, you already paid for it, man." Raymond acted like he was trying to get up. He took it slowly, just like an intoxicated person would do. "If you don't want it, then more for me."

Raymond started to slowly walk away, knowing full well that the thief was watching. Not once did he give an inch of his face to look at. He pretended to stumble here and there, adding to the deception. Not to flatter himself, but if he was a judge, it'd be an Oscar-winning performance. That said a lot about how much the Oscars suck.

"Wait!" The thief opened the door.

Big mistake.

Raymond pounced.

By the second the thief realized it was the same guy he stabbed earlier, Raymond's foot was already wedged between the door. Now it was a contest of strength on who could push the door harder. Again, the stabbed wound hindered Raymond's capabilities; they were on equal footings. In fact, it was going to seem like Raymond was going to lose this effort. That was until the thief decided to reach for something on a table nearby. That was a window of opportunity on which he exploited.

Raymond pushed the thief almost off-balanced, causally making his way into the room. The stench radiating from the furniture told Raymond it had seen some history. If one closed his eyes, one could mistakenly determine it to be fresh cat urine. Compared that to the reek of forty-year-old sweat mixed in with vomit and grease, it was beyond reason why anyone would live in such a place.

Given how the thief was barefoot, which explained a lot. Then again, if a citizen was allowed to own a tank due to the Second Amendment, then weapons of biohazardous destruction must be allowed too. Must be a duelist then, because by God, most of them have absolutely no concept of hygiene. It was even worse if he had to constantly complain about it in his own head.

Oh, and the thief was armed with a knife again, holding himself in a readied stance. Was it a new knife, or was it the same one he stabbed Raymond with? He might've washed it since he came home. It was safer to assume that it was a new knife, which indicated that he might have a bunch more lying around.

"You!" The thief yelled. "How did you find me!?"

Raymond pulled out the driver's license and throw it at him. The thief's face paled, as expected. As he should. As fear washed over the thief's face, Raymond found himself grinning. Yes, he should fear Raymond; police weren't going to be the one bashing his face in. This was where police brutality was needed.

"I know a lot more about you than you may think, Matt." Raymond spat out the name like a poison he finally got to get rid of. And that was going to be the only time he was going to have the displeasure of even saying the thief's name. No need to make him more human than what he clearly was.

That clearly upset him. The thief charged and closed in the distance between the sharpness of his blade and Raymond's pancreas.

Did this moron really think Raymond was going to fall for that a second time? All that stench must've damaged his brain functions more than he realized. It really was saying something when the odor was the first thing he thought of, and not the weed. Raymond intercepted the blade as he grabbed the wrist of Matt's hand, twisting and twisting it until he dropped the knife. The knife to which Raymond immediately kicked away, making sure the thief didn't see where it went.

However, the thief managed to elbow the wound.

"ARGH!" Raymond cried out as he tumbled a couple of steps back. He definitely needed to remember to guard his weak spot carefully. Another hit and it might be too much even for him.

Impatient, and evidently not an amateur, he took his window of opportunity. He swung a dozen of punches like a Goddamned mad man, but effective. He fought as someone from the ghetto. His eyes crisped with anger and he was biting down on his lower lip so hard that it could've bled. This was not the thief's first rodeo, and Raymond had a feeling it wouldn't be his last. It was engrained in his nature.

Finally, Raymond managed to intercept his rampant brigade and broke through his line of defense. He began launching counter punches right back at his ugly face, all of which landed.

Unable to withstand the tremendous force Raymond was dishing out, the thief retreated. They were back to square one, where neither of them was willing to make the first move. Always speculating, always thinking, always flinching at the slightest change in stance. One mistake could cost the other the fight, and if pissed off enough, his life.

"I'ma kill your ass and send yo body back to Mommy." The thief spat as he put his forearms in guarding positions. Poor fool had his mind blinded by his own testosterones. That'd be Raymond's advantage, albeit not as great as an advantage as a stab wound, but what could he do?

"In your dreams." Raymond gritted as he made the first jab, aiming straight for the face. Of course, the scum blocked it with his left and counter jabbed with his right. Left arm up, but that counter punch was much more powerful than Raymond anticipated, so much that it made Raymond punch himself in the face by his own guarding arm. "Come on! Is that all you've got!?"

Raymond retreated a step back, took a breath, and got right back in. Uppercut! Uppercut! Then flank a jab to uppercut again! The idiot fell for it, focusing his defenses on that flank and leaving him right open for a third uppercut. The thief lost his footing from that last attack and fell on his back. And he thought he was so tough, huh? "Get the fuck back up; I'm not done yet."

The thief took a second of rest.

"GET BACK UP, PUNK!"

"FUCK YOU!" The thief hopped right back on his feet. He was pissed, and that was exactly how Raymond wanted him. Straight punch! Straight punch! Miss! Blocked! He drove Raymond into a corner of the room, between the wall and a nightstand.

Raymond had his front guarded, leaving openings on his sides. The thief kept swinging to get to him, to try knocking Raymond out cold. Raymond stood his defense; he had no intentions of going on the offence. Not yet. A swing from the right! A swing from the left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Good, good. Keep swinging.

"NOT SO TOUGH NOW, ARE YOU?" The thief guffawed. How adorable, he thought he was winning.

His swings were getting slower by each passing moment; his shoulders must be dreadfully tired now. Raymond could feel the disgusting sweat being thrown off from the punk's arms; one of the things he must endure until the time came. Still on the defensive, he waited, waiting for that moment.

Not yet… Not yet… Not yet… NOW!

Raymond finally struck! Rapid fire! Rapid fire! Concentrating all of his punches on both of the thief's shoulders, rendering them useless. Yes! Raymond moved on to his DAMN ugly face. He was going to end this. ONE HIT! TWO HIT! Right in the nose, rendering his sense of focus! He jumped! He struck right down on the punk's head!

BAM! AND HE'S DOWN! The little twat tried to get back up, but he fell. That punch concussed greatly him. Raymond won!

And Raymond was going to claim his prize.

Raymond swiftly grabbed him by the neck, pressing his thumb hard against that special spot, dramatically reducing his supply of oxygen to his lungs. "I don't have time for small talks. Where the hell is the bag you stole!?"

Chokingly, he replied in a bare, suffocating whisper. "I… don't… have… it…"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T HAVE IT!?" Raymond snarled. He choked harder, reminding the thief exactly what was going to happen if he didn't cooperate.

"I… sold… it…" The thief eventually cried out as tears began rolling down from his eyes. Not out of emotions, but of pure bodily tensions. Had Raymond began to squeeze the throat even further, it would've created a gruesome snapping noise. Almost identical to the noise of crushing a cockroach under his shoe. Then, he'd toss the limp body against the wall.

He wanted to. He really wanted to.

Raymond set him free from his tight grip. The thief collapsed to the ground on all four of his limbs, gasping desperately for air. But he still felt Raymond's grip around his throat, leaving a painful impression.

"Who!?" Raymond roared, tightening his fists again.

Matt couldn't pick himself up, probably due to his wrist. "He just left before you came in."

Travis… Oh God, it really led back to him, didn't it? How convenient indeed. Raymond turned around towards to the door, hoping that it wasn't too late.

And this asshole decided to grab the knife and charge at Raymond again when he turned his back. How many times did he have to teach this to the imbecile!? Raymond might as well have eyes on the back of his head, as he saw it coming a mile away. This time, he simply moved out of the way, letting the thief trip outside and hit the balcony rails.

They were back out to where the sunlight shined. Obviously, there must've been someone to hear the rumble, no ears could've been spared from the rupturing sound that echoed throughout such a terrible place. But if anyone did, they sure didn't bother to report it, everyone just kept their heads down around here.

Good. Damn good.

Raymond dragged the thief's weary body back into the room. He wrestled the knife off the thief's hands and grabbed it for himself. Inches away from the neck, Raymond's mind raced.

It would be so easy. Just push the edge a few inches further and this larcenous criminal would pay for his crimes. Stealing was one thing, but attempted murder? Oh no. Raymond wasn't going to let that go at all.

After all, why not? What could this scum have possibly done to make the life of the people around him easier? What had he done with his pathetic life other than to lie, cheat, and steal? Such subclass was and never are worthy to be called humans. No honor, no sense of right and wrong. Whatever they do, they deem to be 'Just how the world works.', and whatever would happen to them, they deem to be unjust. These insignificant, despicable men. Raymond cannot bear the thought that the two of them even shared something in common. Only Raymond chose to be elevated, and they chose to be degraded.

He'd be doing the world a favor. What else would one do with a rabid animal going around biting people left and right? Put them down.

Now.

 _"RAYMOND!"_

Mother's voice called out to him.

Raymond's eyes surged right open; his brain stricken still as if by divine lightning. In the air felt as if the burning rage of hell he ignited had frozen over by one silent breeze. No sound coming out of his stuttering mouth, solidified as a sculpture, with his face of an incredulous, unblinking stare. His head spun in all directions. Left, right, up, down, in every way possible. If he had spun any faster, he would've snapped his own neck, killing himself instantly.

Nobody else was there. It wasn't possible; Mother was dead. He'd have to accept the reality that ghosts really did exist if it wasn't his perceptions that was deceiving him. He was sane, he knew he was. But both things couldn't be true simultaneously.

Unless… unless this was 'Jack' screwing with him.

Or maybe 'Jack' was trying to warn him. Wasn't murder considered a sin so grievous that one could lose their salvation over it? But this wasn't murder, this was simply a killing. Bad men must be put down; Raymond seriously doubt that even 'Jack' would oppose it, considering that it wasn't him who wrote all those obsolete Old Testament Laws of bloodthirsty retributions.

But what if Raymond was wrong? Sure, some things deserve the death penalty, but this wasn't one of them? Would he really want to risk it? And for what, exactly? A temporary gratification that'd fizzle out about five minutes later? Mom was definitely in Heaven—there was not a single doubt about that. So, wouldn't he want to see her again?

Wouldn't she love to see him again?

Raymond dropped the knife, hands shaking. As much as he wants to bash the thief's tiny brain against the wall even afterwards, he chose not to. What would Reynalda say about that when she finds out? She always finds out. And Mother… was this how he was going to honor her in his memories? An honor so hard to keep.

"Today's your lucky day, pal." Raymond began walking away from the semi-comatose man. "Take this time to rethink your life."

The thief watched in awe. Whatever boasting pride and confidence that was once in him was shattered. Look at him, devastated by death so close to his soul. No number of what-ifs was going to change the fact that Raymond came so close to ending his life yet chose not to.

Raymond bit his tongue. He still wanted to. He still really wanted to. But he wanted nothing in his way back to his true family. So, Raymond wasn't paying attention to him; he could only focus on the exit. He was never going to look back and regret not doing the world a favor.

And at the corner of his mind, he felt the radiant smile of his dear mother after so many years of regret. A smile he never got to savor before she passed.

* * *

 **There was actually supposed to be a duel in this chapter too, but once I was done writing, I realized that the word count was over 6000! So I decide to cut the duel to the next chapter. So, in essence, this is the first chapter to have no duels in it.**

 **The stories mentioned above is from:**

 **www. reddit dot com /r/AskReddit/comments/2q8fny/storieswhats_a_crazy_story_youve_been_wanting_to/cn3tzd0?utm_source=share &utm_medium=web2x**

 **youtu. be/Kvz-QjbF4OA?t=450**

 **Also, if you were one of those people who was confused why Raymond was calling from a payphone while he had his own phone: sorry about that, I made an editing error; Raymond doesn't have a phone. Should be fixed now.**

* * *

 **6/16/19**


	7. Chapter 7

**I just want to thank all the new followers on this story and a personal shout-out to Yung Warrior for recommending my fanfiction to you new guys. It's the largest surge I've ever had in counts of favorites and followers on this website.**

 **So again, thank you all. I really appreciate it.**

* * *

The sole of his shoe scraped against the pavement, on a street littered with black, aged gum like polka dots. Given how relatively he was racing against the time, Raymond was sure that he bested the world record of how fast a person can finish a cup of coffee. He had to be, otherwise, what else could he possibly do? Calling in another favor was out of the question; Bob wasn't a cheap man. He already did Raymond one freebie; he was damn sure not going to give another one without Raymond paying for it.

The café was safe from its surroundings, surprisingly. Its royal blue tiles sparkled in contrast to the bland and somewhat slum-like neighborhood. Then again, it didn't stand out that much like golden rays shooting left and right. Rather, it was just a little better maintained. How could it be that different when huddled among the despondent, city buildings? Unsaturated to the edge of black and white, matching the overcast sky.

Half a dozen of the patrons glanced up as Raymond swung the door wide open, accompanied by a gust of cold wind. Cold wind in the midst of the summer heat; something was unusual about that statement. The patrons returned to their conversations—or just drinks for those who are alone—as the door swung closed behind Raymond and his inhuman breeze was quickly forgotten.

Inside the café was warmer and cozier, with a set of neon lights on a side of the colorful walls. Orange, the whole place was orange; it had that shiny look of factory-processed instead of a natural grown. And there was an actual jukebox installed at the other end, giving it the feeling of a relic amidst the modern world. It was playing jazz. Of course, it was playing jazz; that was what everybody expected it to play, instead of something different. The aroma of fresh coffee surely did please the nose enough but spend too much time here and it might become a nuisance.

But enough of this procrastination now; Raymond had a man to find, and the café was relatively large enough to miss someone at first glance. Raymond didn't care if he had to search from sunup to sundown, crossing over from today to tomorrow. Heck, he would even skip sleep and run around the entire city in unrelenting blackness of night. And this was New York City he was talking about; the most populated concentration of people the history of the world had ever recorded.

Brown hair wasn't going to be difficult to spot; almost every single human on earth had black hair, so brown should easily stand out. Unless he was trying to spot one in a clutter of dyed hair of insane people trying to be unique and non-conformist, then that would be a more difficult task. But again, it wasn't like that, so Raymond just glanced at people until he found Travis.

Imagine his shock when Raymond found him flirting with a pretty, young barista. Yes, Raymond was as shock as finding out that reckless, unrestrained sex with numerous people with no strings attached was going to lead to a life of STDs and accumulating cats. In other words, not shocked at all.

"I get off at seven." Said barista giggled at Travis. Poor woman, lacking to wisdom and the foresight to see she was wasting her youth on a playboy. But what did she care? He was just furthering the destruction of his ability to be satisfied with

"Well sweet doll, I'll be sure to arrive in a pumpkin chariot by then." Travis flirted. Poor, stupid man. Travis would be the envy of every man; he certainly was Dylan's envy. Lucky, rich, famous, have all the women at the palm of his hand. Dylan confided in Raymond that he would've loved to have such a pleasurable beginning.

But not Raymond. He knew all too well what would happen next. Soon, time would fly, and regret would sink in. All those endeavors around women when he was younger would turn on him, because no woman would ever trust his commitment and he'd have no one to take care of him in his old age. He'd be terrified of dying in the house on his own.

And Raymond would pay top dollar to see such a man die in misery as Raymond laughed in his face.

The fact that Dylan didn't see that was a sign of a blessing. He definitely had a safe and healthy family—a mother and especially a father who stayed together and raised such a delight young man—to be deceived that this was one of the best lives a man could live. Again, such naivety. And in some ways, Raymond wished that Dylan would not need to change that.

"Mister Lawrence." Raymond greeted, leaning on the refectory table without sitting on the bar stool. Travis broke eye contact with the pretty barista and turned his attention straight at Raymond. The barista went back to her duties, sashaying her hips. Neither of them paid much attention to it.

"Ah! Dylan's friend!" He greeted, offering his handshake. Raymond took it, with reluctance. "And I should call you Mister…?"

"Novak."

"Well, Mister Novak," Travis took a sip out of his coffee. A coffee which looked like the miniature version of a fruit basket with frothy whipped cream on top and chocolate sauce zigzagging over it in the pattern of a fence. "It seems like you changed your mind."

"Did you buy your cards from Room 217?" Raymond got straight to the point. The question caught Travis off-guard for a second, but it wasn't anything unusual. Besides, Travis already told Raymond that he was buying cards when they crossed paths on that balcony.

"Why yes," Travis said, confused. "Is there any particular reason you're asking?"

"They're stolen cards." Raymond grimaced. "I need you to return them to me."

"I'm sorry, Mister Novak, but I'll need some proof that they're stolen." Travis chuckled. He looked at Raymond as if he was a conman. To his credit, Travis should be skeptical. If anyone had the right to something just because they claim it to be stolen from them, then the world would have a lot fewer personal possessions. "Perhaps if you get the police to back up your claims, then I'd be delighted to return them to you."

He would've, if he didn't just commit vigilantism. Raymond didn't count on the cards being sold that quickly on the same day they were stolen. He wanted to deal with the problem himself, in a way the police never could. But now he was stuck in this situation, and there was no way out. Damn his rash thinking! He just had to quench his thirst for revenge, didn't he?

"I don't have time for this." Raymond snarled. He pulled up his shirt and separated it as far as he could from the pants without committing public indecency. There, stained red and dark, was the white bandage that Raymond wrapped around himself, and peeling that away gave Travis the sight of rows of fairly done stitches closing what would've been a gaping knife wound. Infected too, if he didn't douse it in medical alcohol. "You see this wound?"

"My!" Travis exclaimed, genuinely shocked. He lost his composure completely and rushed to put pressure on it. "We need to get you to a hospital!"

"Does it look fresh to you?" Raymond slapped away Travis's hand, much to his surprise.

"Why does it matter? You need—"

"Does it?" Raymond asked again. This time more forceful.

Travis picked up on the tone. He swallowed his saliva out of doubt. He didn't know how to respond. "Yes."

"I got this because that thieving son of a bitch decided to stab me to get the cards." Raymond sneered. He even slipped his finger on it, coating it with his blood and put it close to Travis's face, to which he backed away instinctively. "Or maybe you'd like to believe that I stabbed myself for some pieces of cardboard."

Travis was caught off-guard again, but by this moment, he gathered the equanimity to be mature about it. "No, no, I believe you, Mister Novak."

"Good, then would you kindly return the cards to me?"

Travis sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Mister Novak, but I've already paid for the cards."

Raymond wanted to argue. But there was no way to prove that the cards were not his. Reprints were a thing, so that would be double the burden of proof. Then, he wanted to buy it off of him. But then how much? Raymond had only five hundred dollars he could afford to spend. Given the high tier decks Dylan play, it certainly was over that budget. What in the world could he do? Give up? He had to try something. Anything!

"Duel me." Raymond blurted out. He couldn't take it back. And he didn't want to.

"Pardon?" Travis took another sip of his coffee.

"You. Me. Duel. Right now." Raymond reached into his pocket. "If I win, I get the cards back."

"And if I win?"

"You get this." Raymond slapped his thin wallet on the table and slid it towards Travis. His hand still on top of it, in case somebody decided to try their luck.

Travis slipped a finger in and took a look at exactly how much money was in it. It was mostly ten-dollar bills, a couple of twenties, and a hundred. Raymond still had his hand on it the whole time, paranoid because of recent events. Travis shook his head lightly. "That's not an equal stake compared to what I have to lose."

"It's all I have." Raymond almost begged. "Besides, don't you feel lucky?"

He chuckled. Both of them knew what he was playing into. The King of Games challenged by a nobody; this should be an easy win for him. So easy in fact, that Travis should be offended that this nobody thinks he could defeat him, if Travis had any more pride in himself. And yet, Travis looked back at him, amused. "Very well, Mister Novak."

He turned around, back to the barista he was flirting before. He waved at her and she noticed, which made her more hastily with dealing with another customer before she came near. "What else can I do for you?"

"This gentleman and I are having a wager." Travis held up a box of cards for the barista to see. Was that the same box of cards that was in Dylan's bag? "And you, my dear, are our witness. I am betting my box of cards and he is betting his wallet."

Raymond held up his wallet for her to see. "Does she even know the rules of the game?"

"No. But not to worry, I'll be recording the whole thing for evidence. Let's change tables. Follow me." Travis pulled out a deck box and got up from his seat. They came to an empty table next to the window. And Travis pulled out a tripod selfie stick. Wow, he really was prepared for anything, wasn't he?

They shuffled their decks before letting the other cut it into threes. Everything was ready. The only thing Raymond need to brace for was Travis's luck. If what Dylan said was true and not mere hyperbole, then he would need nothing less than the help of God to defeat him. But he was destined to win this tournament. Right? Stop that stupid thought; this was not the official tournament, so it may not count. But God still needed to help; Dylan had done nothing wrong.

His hand was relatively good. Two Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons in his hand already—his and his sister's—not to mention a Polymerization. Supernova Dragon was straight up for summoning. The other two cards in his hand was Reverse Engineering and Drowning Mirror Force.

"As the one being challenged, I will go first."

[TURN 1 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/5]

"Hand Destruction allows both of us to discard two cards, then draw two."

Raymond discarded his Reverse Engineering and Drowning Mirror Force while Travis discarded his Ojama Green and X-Head Cannon. It wasn't that much of a loss, since Reverse Engineering lets Raymond set a trap card from his grave by banishing it, and that set card can be activated on the same turn. Once that set card was left the field, it must be banished.

Also, really? Ojamas? Since when did they become anything good? They couldn't even work in a joke deck. What could Travis possibly do with a monster with no effect and no attack? Was he pushing his luck too far this time? Let's hope so.

His two new cards were Raigeki and Return of the Dragon Lords. Nice. Very nice. After Supernova would be summoned, Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon would return, and the spell card would protect his dragons from destruction.

"I set one card and activate Card Destruction!" Travis discarded an Armed Dragon LV5 and Ojamagic. "And when Ojamagic is sent to the grave, I can add the three original Ojamas to my hand."

And there out the window went his original plan.

The Original Ojamas: Yellow, Green, and Black. Raymond felt that he should be worried that Travis just gained the card advantage, but it was the Goddamn Ojamas; again, what could it possibly do?

"I normal summon Ojama Red, which lets me special summon up to four Ojamas from my hand!"

[ATK Ojama Red: LIGHT LV/2 Beast/Effect ATK/0 DEF/1000]

[DEF Ojama Yellow: LIGHT LV/2 Beast/Normal ATK/0 DEF/1000]

[DEF Ojama Green: LIGHT LV/2 Beast/Normal ATK/0 DEF/1000]

[DEF Ojama Black: LIGHT LV/2 Beast/Normal ATK/0 DEF/1000]

"I use all four Ojamas to link summon Saryuja Skull Dread!"

[Saryuja Skull Dread: EARTH Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/2800 LINK-4]

"Saryuja Skull Dread's effect activates! I can draw four cards from my deck and return three to the bottom!"

WHAT!? Skull Dread at the first turn!? The best he had ever seen before in the tournament was at his opponent's second turn! If he could remember the other two effects correctly, Saryuja Skull Dread gave any monsters special summoned to its links a boost of three hundred attack points, and it can special summon a monster from its owner's hand.

"I now activate my set card: Ojamassimulation! By revealing ABC-Dragon Buster and banishing the three Ojamas, I special summon the ABC monsters!"

[ATK A-Assault Core: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/UnionEffect ATK/1900 — 2100 DEF/200]

[ATK B-Buster Drake: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Union/Effect ATK/1500 DEF/1800]

[ATK C-Crush Wyvern: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Union/Effect ATK/1200 DEF/2000]

"By banishing Ojamassimulation from my grave, I shuffle the Ojama trio back into my deck and draw one card."

So, this was one of the support cards? An effect so effective that it could offset the devastating and crippling costs of running the weakest and most pathetic monsters in existence. Raymond had to be careful not to underestimate the deck any further.

"I activate Dark World Dealings, letting us both draw one card and then I discard my Ojamagic, which lets me add back the three Ojamas again! Then, by activating Ojamatch, I add Ojama Blue from my deck and Armed Dragon LV5 from my grave and immediately normal summons Ojama Blue to my field."

Raymond discarded Dragon's Mirror by Dark World's Dealings.

[ATK Ojama Blue: LIGHT LV/2 Beast/Effect ATK/0 — 300 DEF/1000]

"Upstart Goblin lets me draw one card in exchange for giving you an extra one thousand life points."

[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 — 9000 Hand/5]

"I now combine A, B, C, and Blue to link summon Borrelsword Dragon!"

[Borrelsword Dragon: DARK Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/3000 — 3300 LINK-4]

"Buster Drake chain link two, Crush Wyvern chain link three, and Assault Core chain link four! Assault adds Buster to hand, Wyvern special summons Buster, Buster adds W-Wing Catapult."

[ATK ABC-Dragon Buster: LIGHT LV/8 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 — 3300 DEF/2800]

"I activate another Ojamassimulation, revealing XYZ-Dragon Cannon, banishing Ojama Green, Ojama Red, and Ojama Blue, to special summon X-Head Cannon, Y-Dragon Head, and Z-Metal Tank!"

[ATK X-Head Cannon: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Normal ATK/1800 DEF/1500]

[ATK Y-Dragon Head: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Union/Effect ATK/1500 — 1800 DEF/1600]

[ATK Z-Metal Tank: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Union/Effect ATK/1500 DEF/1300]

"I contact fusion XYZ-Dragon Cannon!"

[ATK XYZ-Dragon Cannon: LIGHT LV/8 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 — 3100 DEF/2600]

"Ojamassimulation activates in the grave again, shuffling Red, Green, and Blue, and draw one card."

"I contact fusion A-to-Z Dragon Buster Cannon!"

[ATK A-to-Z Dragon Buster Cannon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/4000 — 4300 DEF/4000]

"Saryuja Skull Dread allows me to special summon Armed Dragon LV5 from my hand."

[ATK Armed Dragon LV5: WIND LV/5 Dragon/Effect ATK/2400 DEF/1700]

"And with Level Up, I special summon Armed Dragon LV 7 and end my turn."

[ATK Armed Dragon LV7: WIND LV/7 Dragon/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/1000]

[TURN 1 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/5]

Wha… what just happened? Travis went from Ojamas with no effects nor attack value into four tremendous monsters! All of which had an attack value over two thousand, and half of that was over three thousand! And the highest was a behemoth with forty-three hundred attack points with a negation effect!

And the three Ojama brothers in his hand provided by his Ojamagic were the perfectly discard fodder for the cost of A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's effect. Even if Raymond managed to deal with the negation effect permanently, Travis could simply then trade in A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon for its fusion materials, one of which also had a quick effect to banish one card on his field!

And the worst of all, A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's negation effect wasn't limited to once per turn! How in the world was he going to deal with that!?

Oh God… This duel was over before he even had a turn.

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/5 — 6]

No. He couldn't give up. Not when he had one more card in his hand than him. And not when his entire hand was full of spells. He could outlast him. He must.

He drew High Spell Aria.

"I activate Galaxy Trance! I pay two thousand lifepoints, then target one Photon monster in my grave, special summon both it and one Galaxy monster from my deck, with the same Level, both in Defense Position, and if I do, each monster's attack becomes two thousand, also their effects are negated."

"A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's effect activates! I discard Ojama Black!"

Just as expected.

"I activate Galaxy Zero! I target one Photon or Galaxy monster in my graveyard and special summon it in—"

"A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's effect activates again! I discard Ojama Green!"

Again.

"I activate Scapegoat!"

"A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's effect activates again! I discard Ojama Yellow!"

Again…

"Mystic Mine!"

"I discard W-Wing Catapult!"

Again!

"Monster Reborn!"

"I discard V-Tiger Jet!"

AGAIN!

"High Spell Aria!"

"I discard—!" Travis reaches for another card from his hand, before he came to realize he just grabbed empty air. His eyes shot back at the field, alarmed.

Raymond smirked. Travis no longer had cards to discard.

"If a Spell Card's activation or effect was negated by your card effect during my turn, I can activate it from my hand. I target one normal, quick-play, or ritual spell card in my grave, banish it, and this card's effect becomes that spell card's effect when that card is activated."

"Lucky boy…"

"I activate Raigeki!"

"I chain A-to-Z Buster Dragon Cannon's second effect! During either player's turn, I can banish this card, then target and special summon my banished ABC-Dragon Buster and XYZ-Dragon Cannon!"

What did it matter? Building a chain on top of Raigeki would only make Dragon Buster Cannon's effect to resolve first, and then his newly special summoned monsters would not be safe from the board wipe.

"I banish Reverse Engineering from my grave! In doing so, I can reset High Spell Aria! And I reactivate High Spell Aria again to banish one spell card in my grave!"

He could see it already in his mind's eye. A supreme, two-headed beast born from the collusion of two galaxies, like the Anadroma with the Milky Way, and a burst of light equivalent to the might of the supernova, bursting out great brightness of a catastrophic explosion, ejecting its immeasurable mass. As the light fades away, a clearer shape took form, set free upon the world to reign the skies above.

"Dragon's Mirror!" Raymond almost roared. Such fire, such passion. This dragon was the representation of the union between him and his sister's spirit that would always be with him, even as she lay helpless on that hospital bed! No bond was stronger than a familial one, and together, they would defy the odds. Even Travis's reality-bending luck wouldn't stand against it! "I banish the two Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons in my grave to fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"Attack!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 — 5000 Hand/0]

"And with that, I end my turn."

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/0]

It took every card in his hand, but he did it. Besides, Travis had absolutely nothing. No cards in his hand or on his field. Raymond was leading the card advantage by just one, and a good one at that.

Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon cannot leave the field by his opponent's card effects. Whenever it battled an opponent's monster: Raymond could banish both cards. Sure, if it was the opponent's monster that attacked, it must be special summon it back to Travis's field at the end of the Battle Phase and he could only activate this effect of Galaxy-Eyes Supernova Dragon once per turn, but what did that matter?

Raymond had a guaranteed direct line of attack regardless if Travis set a monster or not. He could simply banish both monsters and then Supernova's last effect would kick in, special summoning itself whenever it was banished, by its own effect or not. By game mechanics, it'd be considered a new monster, and attack again.

Raymomd was right, this duel was over. But not in the way Raymond first thought it would. One draw was highly unlikely to save Travis now.

[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 Hand/0 — 1]

"I set one card face-down and end my turn."

[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 Hand/0]

[TURN 4 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/0 — 1]

"I normal summon Galaxy-Eyes Cloudragon."

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Cloudragon: LIGHT LV/1 Dragon/Effect ATK/300 DEF/250]

"Then by tributing it, I special summon my Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"It's over." Raymond declared. Dylan's cards were safe now. And if Travis wasn't going to honor the bet, then he was going to have hell to pay. Long after Raymond carefully plan out how to get away with it too, of course. "All-out attack!"

"Think again." Travis smirked. "Quaking Mirror Force!"

WHAT!?

"When your monster declares an attack, I can change all attack position monsters you control to face-down defense position. Monsters changed by this effect cannot change their battle positions."

Who the hell would play Quaking Mirror Force when everybody had link monsters in their deck!? By all means, Quaking should be practically worthless to run nowadays! Why!? WHY!? In God's name did he run that!?

Raymond was fuming. "I end."

[TURN 4 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/0]

"Oh good, it's my turn now." Travis was chipper about it, which just made Raymond angrier.

[TURN 5 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 Hand/0 — 1]

"I activate Pot of Desires! By banishing the top ten cards of my deck face-down, I can draw two cards!" Something was going very wrong; Raymond could feel it gnawing at his skin. Travis's grin confirmed his suspicions. "I activate my third Ojamassimulation! I banish Black and Green and reveal VW-Tiger Catapult to special summon V-Tiger Jet and W-Wing Catapult!"

[ATK V-Tiger Jet: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Normal ATK/1600 DEF/1800]

[ATK W-Wing Catapult: LIGHT LV/4 Machine/Union/Effect ATK/1300 DEF/1500]

"Contact fusion: VW-Tiger Catapult!"

[ATK VW-Tiger Catapult: LIGHT LV/6 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/2100]

"Then, I activate Monster Reborn!"

[ATK XYZ-Dragon Cannon: LIGHT LV/8 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/2800 DEF/2600]

"I contact fusion again! VWXYZ-Dragon Catapult Cannon!"

[ATK VWXYZ-Dragon Catapult Cannon: LIGHT LV/8 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2800]

"And for my final contact fusion! I can banish VWXYZ-Dragon Catapult Cannon on my field and the XYZ-Dragon Cannon from my grave to summon Armed Dragon Catapult Cannon!"

[ATK Armed Dragon Catapult Cannon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/3500 DEF/3000]

"I end my turn."

[TURN 5 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 Hand/0]

It was wise of him to not attack. With Return of the Dragon Lords in his grave, his dragons would be protected once from battle. And since battling would flip cards face-up, thus allowing Raymond to use their effects, it was better this way.

Supernova's defenseless against it now, same thing with Photon Dragon, which both cards can banish the monster, albeit only Supernova could do it permanently if it was the one attacking. It also locked down on his monster zones, as face-down monster couldn't be used as link material, nor xyz, nor synchro. Fusion was technically possible, but there was nothing in his extra deck that met the requirements. The only way to free up those zones was to tribute summon, and he had more than enough monsters in his deck to make that happen.

[TURN 6 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/0 — 1]

He drew a Photon Stream of Destruction. Would've been pretty useful if his monsters were face-up. There was nothing he could do this turn. Damn it!

"I end."

[TURN 6 Raymond Novak LP/9000 Hand/1]

"I activate the effect of Armed Dragon Catapult Cannon!" Travis interrupted, before drawing a card. "Once per your turn, I can banish one card from my deck or extra deck to banish all cards on your field and in your GY!"

As Travis banished an Ojama Blue from his deck, Raymond seized on the silver lining of this.

"Supernova's effect activates! If it's banished, I can special summon it back!"

Travis just wagged his finger. "Armed Dragon Catapult Cannon prevents you from activating cards or effect of cards with the same name as a banished card."

No… NO!

[TURN 7 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 Hand/0 — 1]

"I activate Pot of Extravagance! I randomly banish six cards from the extra deck to draw two cards! And then by banishing my final Ojamassimulation and shuffling the three Ojamas back to my deck, I can draw one card!"

He now had three cards in his hand!

"By activating Magical Stone Excavation and discarding the two other cards in my hand, I can return one spell card from my grave to my hand!" They both knew what was coming. "I activate Monster Reborn to revive Borrelsword Dragon!"

[Borrelsword Dragon: DARK Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/3000 LINK-4]

Borrelsword could make a second attack during the battle phase by targeting one monster on the field and change it to defense position. Raymond looked over to Armed Dragon Catapult Cannon, which he knew was going to attack first. He was finished.

"All-out attack."

[TURN 7 Raymond Novak LP/9000 — 0 Hand/1]

This… this was shattering. He was supposed to win. He was supposed to get back Dylan's cards. Wasn't the whole purpose was to win all the duels? That was literally the only way he could win the prize money. He was destined to. He made a deal with God Himself to win all duels. A life of servitude under Him for the continuing and longevity of his sister's life. He must have won.

So, why did he lose?

Was he making any sense? Was this some way 'Jack' was using to communicate with him? That Raymond would be absolutely useless without Him? Let's not forget that at the beginning of this duel, Raymond thought so himself that because this was not the official tournament duel, destiny—a term he was using very loosely—may not help him.

Was this supposed to put him in his place?

"Now, Mister Novak," Travis interrupted his train of thought. "My prize, please."

Right. He wagerred it, didn't he? If it was in any other circumstance, Raymond would let it go; a bet was a bet. But this was different. He felt the urge to grab his wallet and dash out of the cafe right now, but Travis already had video evidence of him consenting to the bet. Him trying to win back the cards instead of going to the police already made him suspicious; Travis wasn't going to be afraid of calling the police to enforce the results. After all, legal gambling was just like a contract.

Raymond also couldn't risk the path to victory. Fine, he'd admit it: he only got this far because of Him. Look at the cards he had! It wasn't even his to begin with! His shelter from the rain, his transportation! What were the odds he just so happened to stumble upon an overly generous man, akin to an angel from above, giving him a fighting chance? More poetically, as Hermes sent to aid Perseus in his quest to slay Medusa.

Would Raymond lose His favor if he did it? This whole quest hinged on God and him holding up each of their own ends of the bargain. Hypocrisy would disgust Him, wouldn't it? To fully expect the other party to stick to the promise whilst he thought he could excuse himself from it. This was a test. If Raymond couldn't honor this bargain, how in the world would 'Jack' ever trust Raymond to honor a bargain on a much grander scale?

So, no. Raymond could not run. He should not run. But this… this wallet… this wasn't comparable to a drop in a bucket of water. This was the water. If he lost this, then he'd lose almost everything.

"Mercy…" Raymond quietly said. Begged. "Show me some mercy…"

"Pardon?" Travis chuckled. It was a rhetorical question. "You talk a big talk, Mister Novak, but when it comes down to it, you retreat like a wanker?"

"Yes." He full-on confessed. He was a loser in every aspect of life. "Yes I am. Now I'm asking for mercy."

"No, I don't think I will show mercy, Mister Novak." Travis grinned. And at the same time, he had that disgusted look in his eyes. The look of losing respect for somebody. He got up, grabbed the wallet, and began heading for the door after collecting his cards. "I wish you a good day, Mister Novak."

"Travis!" Raymond shouted after him. Much to both of their surprises, Travis actually decided to turn around to face Raymond once more with a brow raised. He didn't say anything, but Raymond could definitely tell that Travis was communicating that Raymond better say something and fast, or else this was just a further waste of his time.

"I… I…" Good LORD, he was choking on his words. It was more than that; his legs were as stiff as a slave stomping all day in the mud pits, making bricks with straw as the taskmaster whipped him to dance at their pleasure. And he, as a rebellious slave, defy their orders, as he poured all his strength into bending his knees. His ego obviously wouldn't allow that, as it tried whipping his brain into thinking that he'd look ridiculous if he did this.

He didn't care. No, he did care, but the consequences of upholding his pride was not worth it.

His knees hit the floor, as everyone else in the cafe watched in curiosity. Not Travis, however. He was surprised for the third time this day. Surprised, and in awe, at how far a man was willing to go for one of the few things he had left to his name.

"I'm begging you." Raymond asked again, like a peasant in the feudal days. Screw it, he had already come this far; might as go all the way. His forehead made contact with the floor as well. At that moment, Raymond heard the click of a camera. Not one, not two, but three. "Show me some mercy."

"Mister Novak…" His voice didn't sound like anything but… pity.

This was how it felt like to be helpless. Just like him kneeling back at the hospital's chapel, back at where this all began. Humiliated. Desperate. Faceless. He put his dignity on that altar and sacrificed it—burned it—letting its smoke rise up to the sky for God to get a whiff of. He felt that fear that it would be rejected, that it wouldn't be good enough. Now he was doing it again. Please let it be good enough. Please…

"Okay, Mister Novak, you win." Travis sighed. He threw the wallet back in front of Raymond. "Next time, don't make bets you can't pay."

"Thank you." Raymond bowed once again, demonstrating his gratitude. As soon as Raymond finished it, Travis already made his way out of the cafe, with all the stolen cards with him, of course. He wasn't that merciful.

Everybody returned to their drinks once Raymond got up and looked at them. And after all that, Raymond slouched down to the nearest empty seat and contemplated his life.

* * *

"And I said to him, 'So, you like girls with big titties, eh?' And he just grabbed the pictures and locked himself in for the rest of the day." Reynalda laughed on her bed, recounting her early memories.

"And then what happened?" The hospital intern asked, perhaps too eagerly.

"I shouldn't…" Reynalda was being coy; that was obvious.

"Oh come on!" She begged, practically jumping up and down in excitement. "You've already told me so much! Don't leave me dry! I've been stuck at the front desk all-day! At least you can do is to entertain me!"

"Oh, Miss Rhoads." Reynalda nudged her head at the clock. I'm afraid your lunch break is already over."

She groaned. "Fine, but next time you definitely have to finish it! Promise me!"

Reynalda laughed. "I will."

The nurse got up from her stoll and made her way out of the curtain. But before she did, she paused her steps, with a sodemn look on her face. There was a question swimming in her head, and she was dying to know. "Do you miss him?"

"Who?"

"Raymond." She spoke reminiscently. "The old Raymond. Every time I see him, he just talks less and less, and closes himself more and more."

Reynalda sighed. "He's not the same babysitter you used to know, you mean?"

"Well…" She pondered. "I miss the old him. That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah…" She sighed again. "Me too…"

"I—I—" Reynalda wanted to continue. But then something happened. Someone was running amok inside of her. Her internal organs suddenly began to act up and her heart felt like somebody just put a drill to it and pressed the 'On' button. It felt like something was attacking her very soul. Her eyes shot left and right, mostly at the nurse, before she felt the need to scratch out her very heart and throw it out the window before it could kill her in a more violent way.

She convulsed on her bed, shaking, unconscious, almost hitting over the meal plate. If it wasn't for the rail-guards, she would've found herself face-planted on tile floor. The intern nurse looked on in horror until her brain rebooted and her sense of urgency kicked in, yanking the curtains wide open and rushed out the door. Reynalda was shaking and unconscious as she slouched towards the edge.

"DOCTOR! PATIENT IS CONVULSING!"

The last thing Reynalda could remember was her heart monitor beeping irregularly in rapid patterns.

Before it crashed into a long silence of a straight green line.

* * *

 **6/30/19**


	8. Chapter 8

**First of all, I would just like to apologize for taking so long for an update. As mentioned in previous A/Ns, I have no schedule for this story, but the reason why it went on months without an update is because I've been training for a job, which took up most of my time.**

 **But enough about my life, let's jump into this chapter.**

* * *

Raymond had to walk back; no bus, no hitchhiking, just walking. It was because it was scenic, or at least, that was what he'd liked to tell himself. Certainly, it was scenic. Raymond visited the famed World's Fair Globe, circled by a netted fence of irregular shapes in between.

He really wished he had a motorcycle right now, however. Heck, he'd even settle for a rusted bicycle as he'd pedal up the bridge while he could see the smallest hint of moonlight slowly creeping up from the skyline horizon. His legs were already numb from the previous hills he had to overcome with his worn-out shoes. At least it seemed that tonight was going to have the full moon, generously helping him with its dim light. The summer breeze flowed through him in this sweating night, chilling the sweat dripping out of his pores from the sun's heat.

He touched the shape of his deck again for the fifth time, resting in his shirt pocket. It'd become a habit if he continued doing that; he didn't know why, he just felt the urge to touch it, to reassure himself that it didn't fall out when he was walking up that hill or that he didn't forget it back at the cafe.

It was more of checking if his heart was still there, working functionally. Making sure that it wasn't having some sort of a stroke. Again, he didn't know why, he just did. He had been feeling this way ever since the duel with Travis, although it had been getting better as the hours pass.

Travis. Raymond held his wallet in his hand; he looked at his knees. It was still fresh in his mind about that humiliating loss. Hopefully, although not likely, nobody decided to take a photo or even video that moment. Nowadays, everybody was always looking for that shot at fame, regardless if other people would be the expense, especially about a stranger. Seriously, he wouldn't be surprised if he became a laughingstock for weeks to come, or at worst case, years. Raymond could only… pray that every single one of them decided that it wasn't that newsworthy and delete it from their phones.

Shouldn't he have something more serious to think about? Wouldn't he want to seize this opportunity to reflect and review on Travis's strategies? After all, it was said that the greatest teacher of success was defeat. But no. Raymond just didn't feel like it. He just wanted to relax, get back to the motel, and call it a day.

It should be shameful that he was this docile, this complicit in failure. But he didn't feel like that either. He was just… empty.

He could have done the rational thing and went back to that thief's place and just rob him in return. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, card for card. Biblical, even, so he had the moral landscape covered.

But who would want to live in a world where mercy could be rescinded at any time?

His feet were sore at this point. All the friction building inside between the sole and his socks finally got to him. But luckily, he arrived just in time for some well-deserved rest. He made it back to the hotel.

In fact, he was facing the same open picnic area of the hotel, which was right next to the parking lot. And that little spot of dried blood was underneath his feet. Guess nobody bothered to clean it. It was certainly a Goddamn surprise why this place wasn't treated as a crime scene. Maybe it was because no one was actually murdered, and robbery didn't necessarily constitute a yellow tape around the perimeter. But he was stabbed, and Dylan knew he was stabbed, so the question was in flux.

The night surprisingly made the place only more scenic with its green grass and trees reflecting the soft light of the streetlights. That, or the pain was messing with his head.

"Novak?" A voice called to him. Raymond turned his head a slight degree to the left. There Dylan was, approaching him with somewhat of a limp. It certainly wasn't there before, so something must've happened while he was gone. "Novak! Where were you?"

Raymond himself slowly made his way to one of the benches and sat down. Hand over his face, of course. Unless he thought of a better way to not have an eye-to-eye with Dylan, then Raymond was sticking to it. His tone was, for the first time in a long time, pitiful. "Trying to get your cards back."

"How were you even going to do that?" Dylan's voice implied he was puzzled at the answer.

"Doesn't matter. I failed." Raymond sighed. It came a moment when he wanted to say that he tried his best, that he would describe exactly the lengths he went through and the punches he took. Punches, from both physically and spiritually. Dylan would understand probably better than he could that Travis was almost an impossible man to beat. Almost impossible, as Raymond wanted to leave some room for hope, no matter how fringe.

But he didn't, because all of that could be summed up in only two words. "I'm sorry."

And by that, Dylan made an understanding noise. Raymond still had his hand covering his face in defeat, perhaps he might even do this for the whole night. And no, sleeping didn't count; he would be awake doing this. Just sitting here alone on this bench, holding the exact same pose until the sun cracked the next dawn.

Dylan placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, but somehow, he knew.

"What happened with the police?" Raymond asked after a minute passed.

"They took my statement and said they'll call me in for a line-up if they found enough people with similar descriptions." Dylan answered. "I also told them that you were stabbed; they didn't understand why you left before they could assist you."

"I told you why."

"Yeah, but life is worth any amount of money, Novak." Dylan pushed back. One of the rare moments when Dylan showed some aggression. "Don't destroy yourself just for money."

Raymond chuckled. "You know, my mother used to say the same thing."

"Smart woman." Dylan quickly quipped. "Maybe I should rat you out to her. You're acting like a kid who never got spanked."

His laughter died down, though not completely. "Don't worry, she knows."

"Really now?"

Raymond lifted his head toward the darkening sky. Sentimentally. Yearningly. Reminiscently. "She knows."

"Oh." Dylan realized. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

And them, silence came between them again, just as when it came between them this morning. Minute by minute, the silence alleviated the burden on his shoulders.

"So," Raymond broke the quiet. "What would you do now without your cards?"

Instantaneously, he wished he hadn't asked that question. Because it was at that moment, he was reminded of what an advantage it was if Dylan couldn't compete. The possibility that Raymond would have to face off with Dylan in the finals had occurred to him—he wasn't an idiot—but to take his hospitality then crush his hopes was not a pleasant thought.

It was cruel. And it was inevitable. Unless of course, Dylan couldn't compete at all. Perhaps Raymond could feel better about it then, because it was not him that had to deal the killing blow. Perhaps not.

Do the soldiers of a firing squad actually feel any less of the blood burden, if he was unsure whether or not the barrel was loaded with a blank, so he may hide behind the fact that no one would be able to determine who fired the fatal shot? Would it still haunt him because his job was to make sure the criminal was dead, instead of firing the bullet?

"I still have one deck that wasn't stolen." Dylan said. "Though I'm not sure if it would get me far enough."

So, one man had been dismissed from the firing squad, leaving only two men left. Either somebody else would defeat Dylan in the semi-finals, or Raymond would have to do it himself. Either way was a sad thing to let happen. But it must be done. Raymond would rather be cruel than to be useless, to be the one at fault for the death of his sister.

The wind blew strong. The last inch of the sun finally hid itself beyond the horizon, leaving behind only the glow of a red and orange hue as its last traces of the day. As the summer breeze continue to flow through the two of them, the moonlight arose from skyline and trees. And the small stars lit one by one as speckles of dots; the cold wind of the crystal night shook the fragrant flowers, singing them to sleep. Nests of birds began to quiet down, exhausted by the working days of feeding their young.

Nature was ignorant of the almost dark void in the sky above them, drawn by a color since time immemorial.

Then, and suddenly then, did something happen. The darkening sky started to glow blue. Both of them turned their heads towards the source of the luminous hue, in morbid curiosity. The light latched itself onto the background, striking as fast as lightning throughout the sky, from north to south. The light had gotten deeper, digging its way through the walls, the electrical system, all the way to the barred sewers on the streets. It blinded Raymond's eyes for a split moment, not even being able to tell if his eyes are closed or opened.

The light then faded away as fast as it came. But it was like a vampire, as it took the lights from anywhere it could, from the motel rooms which were lit before, now found themselves in complete blackness. The streetlamps too, rows after rows of them, shut down after the blue hue went away. In fact, everywhere he looked, it was plunged into absolute darkness.

"A blackout?" Dylan said, checking his phone. "Damn, I don't even have a signal."

"Something must've exploded." Raymond added, pointing at the direction where the blue glow once was. "That'd explain that strange blue light."

"Wouldn't that have explosions, then? Where's the fire?"

"Trudeau," Raymond bemused. "Not every explosion is a ka-boom."

"Uh, yes it is." Dylan inserted with confidence. That was putting it nicely. "That's the very definition of an explosion!"

"Look it up, it's not." Raymond snickered, and he interrupted Dylan before he could begin to counter him. "And don't give me that Google shit; give me an academic one like Merriam-Webster."

"Novak, cell towers are down; I don't have internet."

"Doesn't matter; explosions are defined as a rapid and sudden expansion of something. It has nothing to do with fire."

"Explosions are explosions!" Dylan simpered. "A rapid and sudden expansion results in very high amount of kinetic energy equivalent to an exothermic chemical process of combustion! Which is known as fire!"

Raymond chuckledly sighed. "You know what? Let's just put this behind us."

"Well… okay." Dylan stretched out his muscles and twisted his spine to the point where it was flexible again, evident by the snapping noise.

"The argument is as stupid as saying that a hot dog is a sandwich."

That earned Raymond a snidding look from Dylan. Uh oh. Something told Raymond that he wasn't going to like it. "The hell do you mean it's stupid? A hot dog is a sandwich!"

Raymond paused. Oh… oh… he definitely didn't like it.

"Oh my God…" Raymond gasped. "You're one of them."

"And you're one of them…" Dylan gasped in the same way. "I have failed you Novak, I have failed you…"

"I should've known you would think a hot dog is a sandwich." Raymond shook his head.

"Novak! It's meat between bread!"

"From my knowledge, it belongs in a separate category!"

"Well then you are lost!"

"Oh this is the end—" Raymond paused midway as something caught the corner of his eye. Something hovering lightyears above as he was drawn towards the strange cloud. Metaphorically, as the light returned as the afterimage of his long forgotten childhood, still blinding him for a few seconds before he could finally see. See the clustering of stars glowing brighter than the city nights; the Milky Way. And him, struck in awe.

"Holy moly," Dylan exclaimed in the same awe-struck fashion after following Raymond's line of sight when he noticed Raymond was essentially captivated. "I'd never thought I'd see something like this before."

The sense of renaissance latched onto his skin, striking as fast as lightning throughout his body. No, he was the lightning. He was thundering across the wonder of space and time. The most beautiful of art, sung by a people of a time long past and will be admired by a people who are yet to be born. It was one thing for Raymond to imagine it, it was another to actually see it. He wished Reynalda was here to see it with him. And maybe, just maybe, they together can discover which star was their mother watching from Heaven above.

"It must be a city-wide blackout if the light pollution went away that much."

Stars, oh the stars! Was this really what their ancestors saw? Every night? To have something whispering to them in a way the ears cannot hear. Minute by minute, Raymond truly understood why every civilization in the history of mankind believed in some higher power. They have witnessed the finest sculpture only made from divine hands.

"Novak, I have to tell you something…"

Hell, if Raymond wasn't convinced before, then he surely was now. Life in the darkness, warmth from cold, hope from nothingness. Just look at it! An orient on high, banishing the lingering gloom as its royal door flung wide and free with its heavenward road secured to the earth! The path to the emptiness of vanity barred, the endless doom conquered!

"The truth is… I'm not doing helping you out of the goodness of my heart."

He finally could remember in full detail of that night, when it was just him and his mother, sitting together at midnight during their camping trip, admiring the same sea of majesty he was witnessing right now. How she draped his little childish body with a blanket as Reynalda and… his father slept in their respective tents.

"I'm only being generous because I'm hoping God will let me win the tournament."

The eternal home. No matter the years that passed, Raymond felt that same warmth again, as if it was yesterday. Raymond smiled, feeling the wind blow his hair into a tousled mane. He didn't care. He just wanted to share this moment, under the Milky Way, with all whom he loved, and perhaps in the future, will love.

"Trudeau."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let anyone demonize you just because you have some side motive for doing good deeds. Anyone who does that is an immoral vampire who wants to drain all of the benefits from you and contributes nothing back while simultaneously having an orgasm on the false premise that they have the moral high ground."

"But—"

"No buts!" Raymond shot that detestable notion down before Dylan had the chance to hang himself with it. "Look me in the eyes Trudeau as I say this."

Naivety was still there. But Raymond didn't feel anger anymore, he felt envious. That this man was full of optimism and good will; why did he felt angry in the first place? Jealousy. Dylan still had his innocence. Innocence, not in intelligence, but of conscious. It was a salvation he could never return to. And it was evil—yes, evil—for him to entertain his inner bitterness, how he hated him for not having the burden as heavy as he did.

"You are a good man." Raymond decreed. A decree that would probably be true until the day Dylan, his friend, died. "More than I'll ever be."

Friend. Now that was a word he hadn't used in a long time. A long time.

Dylan sighed, lost in starry wonderland. "After this tournament, I'm not going to pick up another card ever again. I'm going to get my life together, and I can't do that while I'm addicted to the game. It doesn't matter if I win or lose, I need to change."

Raymond wished him well. Truly.

"Novak?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Thus, the hours passed. And they sat there, without ever speaking another word.

* * *

 _"Happy Birthday to you~!"_

 _Raymond brazened into the lightless dining room with an ice-cream cake on his hands and thirty candles lighting his face. Topped with frozen strawberries, little melon balls, chocolate shavings, and many other things he could think of._

 _"Happy Birthday to you~!"_

 _He walked towards the dinner table, where two women were patiently sitting and admiring his most talented singing, of course. The clock ticked towards midnight and faint chirping of the crickets outside. A bit annoying, but he had gotten used to falling asleep with them by now._

 _"Happy Birthday, dear Mother~!"_

 _He laid the cake gently under his mother's gleaming face._

 _"Happy Birthday to you~!"_

 _Raymond took a seat._

 _"You didn't think I actually forgot, did you, Mom?"_

 _"Knowing you?" Reynalda snickered. "I wouldn't be surprised."_

 _"Oh, ignore your sister, Raymond." She put her hands on his. "I know you never forget."_

 _Raymond smiled. He relished at the gesture. It was almost as if she was still alive. But what was he talking about? She was alive. She was right here, wasn't she? All that stuff they've went through, her death, Reynalda's terminal illness, his disgraceful descent into violence. It was all a bad nightmare he had last night. "Make a wish."_

 _She closed her eyes, held her hands together, and prayed to God above. He knew that because that was the same gesture she did when she prayed in church. But then again, it was pretty standard for any Christian. Maybe. He didn't go to church that often; only when his mother decided that she needed his help on something she promised to her pastor. Which, by the way, was still unfair as he should at least be consulted about it beforehand, instead of dumping it on him right in the moment._

 _Reynalda was lucky; she didn't have to do any of it as 'Girls aren't as strong as boys!'. Seriously, Mom needed to stop it with the excuses. He must be compensated with special privileges for this unfair treatment! He would go on strike if it continued!_

 _Finally, Mom made up her mind and blew out the candles in one blow. Wow, pretty strong lungs for someone as old as her. Yeah, that was right, calling her old was his revenge. Not that he dared to say that aloud._

 _"Hooray!" Raymond clapped. Then he pulled out a plastic knife. "Now get rid of the candles; I'm hungry."_

 _"What did you wish for?" Reynalda asked._

 _"Reynalda!" He scolded. "You know how it works! If she says it, then it won't come true!"_

 _Reynalda's smile changed. It was not as jestful as she first made it out to be. But instead, it became serene. Limitless. Freed. As if all the burdens of the world was lifted from her shoulders. "Tell him our wish."_

 _Raymond didn't see the underline tone she was trying to convey. Or, he refused to. Because it gave this eerily feeling that he wanted to run away from as soon as he felt it. The gloom darkened the room even further than what Raymond thought to be possible._

 _His mother held his hands tighter, preparing him for something inevitable. The very reality he was clinging onto, little by little, moment by moment, began to show its cracks._

 _"Mom?"_

 _A single tear fell down her cheek. "I wish that you can move on without the both of us."_

 _Raymond remained silent._

 _"Raymond, my son, you're going to help so many people. But not when we're tying you down."_

 _"We?" No. He would not heed this lunacy. "What do you mean by 'we'?"_

 _"Raymond." This time, it was Reynalda who spoke up. "It's too late for me."_

 _"NO." Raymond slammed his open palm on the table. The sudden outburst struck his beloved family to their core; they've seen him angry before. And not the temper-tantrum a child would make when he didn't get what he wanted. It was the one they saw when some nutjob thought their home was easy pickings. The one when he bashed the thief's head repeatedly against the floor of their home until his skull bleed, akin to a castle wall that could no longer withstand the mighty siege of its furious enemy._

 _But who was he kidding? Deep down instead, there was a part of him that was like the child he railed against. "I already have failed Mom; I'm not going to let you die too!"_

 _Reynalda sighed. Her head hung and she was summoning every bit of her strength to hold back the waters. She took at him not as that fun and caring sister he knew for his whole life. No, she looked at him with such intensity that he felt the need to back away. Rare for her to display such vigor, such emotion. "Raymond. Right now, I'm in a coma. The fact I can talk to you this way just shows how close to death I am."_

 _Raymond didn't say anything._

 _"Raymond," She came towards him, kneeling at his lap, begging him to listen to her as she looked up to her own brother. "I've seen the grand plan, so has Mom! I know you're confused and upset, but in time, you will see what we have seen!"_

 _Raymond scoffed. "This is just some sick joke. A dream." Raymond stood up. His feet locked firmly to the floor, which would take a bulldozer to force him to move. "I will save you."_

 _Reynalda's eyes fell downcast. "You can still save me, Raymond. But…"_

 _"But what?" Raymond sneered._

 _Reynalda fell silent. Raymond gave her a few minutes but that didn't change what they were both thinking. They both knew that she didn't want to die. She was too young, too much potential not realized to die. It wasn't him just thinking that, she herself expressed countless times her desired future with him. How she wanted to spend her life studying the great beyond of the skies, to have her spirit lifted by the mysteries of the cosmos. And maybe, just maybe, if she was good enough, she may be renowned throughout the future years shall see._

 _Emboldened by that fact, Raymond took charge. "But what, Reynalda?"_

 _"Bu—but…" She was stuttering, but she pressed on. "Maybe… it's better… you don't."_

 _"TAKE THAT BACK!" How dare she say that!? How dare she abandon all hope!? HOW DARE SHE THINK HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO SAVE HER!? HOW DARE SHE THINK THAT HE SHOULDN'T!? "TAKE THAT FUCKING BACK!"_

 _"Raymond!" Their mother stepped in between them. The way she stood, acting as a shield for her daughter. The way she looked at him, as he was the menace who needed to be stopped._

 _And… and she would be right. Look at Reynalda! She's scared! Of him! Her own brother… Raymond didn't realize how tight his fists were until the thought entered his mind. He also didn't know how deep the cuts were until he let go._

 _He would be a threat to the table, sure. A threat to the wooden wall, the China plates, and… the vase._

 _It was the porcelain painted with blue flowers and olive branches. His mother's vase… the one he earned by the sweat of his brow._

 _And to think, he could've just knocked it off the shelf like it was a worthless item to relieve his stress. Not could've: almost._

 _Destroying that would be to hit his mother or his sister, something that had less of a chance than Hell freezing over. How would he be able to look at himself in the mirror for doing that?_

 _"Raymond…" His mother laid her hands on his shoulder. "We wish that you will be someone we never had the chance to be."_

 _Raymond surrendered to her._

 _"We wish you to be admirable." She began holding back her tears. "When you breathe your last breath and die at a good old age, an old man and full of years, we want to see you again."_

 _"I want to see you again." She cried tears of joy. Joy, at the things that are yet to come, and may never come. Why did she have so much faith in a wretch like him? Mother or not, she must recognize how screwed-up he was. Could he even live up to her dreams? "And when we do, tell us all about your life, what you did, who you married, how were the children you raised! I want to hear it from your own mouth!"_

 _Then, she caressed his face, adoring him one last time. This was the face she watched for more than a decade. The face she had to clean whenever he made a mess of himself, the face she feed with her chicken pot pie, the face she should've seen the day she died…_

 _"Goodbye Raymond." She smiled before she started fading away._

 _"Wait…" Raymond pleaded. He tried reaching for her, making her stay a little while longer; he didn't even say sorry yet! She couldn't go! "Wait!"_

 _But it was no use. He lost her for the second time. It was just him and Reynalda now._

 _"Raymond…" Reynalda said. "I wish that you find it in your heart to forgive."_

 _No…_

 _"Whether it be Dad, yourself, or whomever else, I don't want you to live unfulfilled."_

 _Please don't leave too…_

 _"Forgive me, Raymond."_

 _With those final words, she too faded from his vision. She was perhaps the only person left to keep the light shining, as when she left, the pitch-black darkness settled in. He was essentially blind, couldn't tell if he had his eyes open or shut._

 _Then he felt something. Something above him, slowly descending upon him. A living being, whose shape he could not distinguish. It felt like a messenger._

 _"NO!" Raymond didn't want to hear anything right now. But the thing just wouldn't leave him alone. It grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Raymond considered this an attack, so he raised his fist and dealt the return blow._

* * *

"ARGH!" Dylan screamed in pain. "GOD DAMN!"

The first thing Raymond felt was his knuckles striking against a human head. It was a weak strike, since he hadn't fully awakened yet and his strength was still asleep, but it was still strong enough to knock Dylan off his feet.

"I was going to wake you up! Why did you punch me!?"

"Oh shit," Raymond, after a couple seconds of comprehending what he just did, shot out of his bed and came to his aid. "I am so sorry, Trudeau, I didn't know it was you."

It was only then that kicked in the fact that it was already morning. The curtains were of an orange glow to the morning light, with a ray of sunrise peeking through the crack in the middle. He reaches his hand out to the curtain, pondering whether he should close it so they both could get more sleep or open it completely since they were already awake and probably wouldn't have any more time to sleep. Then again, the curtains weren't doing that great of a job as how the light poured through every open space between fibres. That amount itself was enough to feel like the sun was flooding the room, saturating the colors.

"What kind of a nightmare were you having to make you punch like that?" Dylan winced, covering his forehead in pain. There might be even a slight bruise developing.

Yes. It was just a nightmare, by the way; nothing to concern himself too much with.

Raymond tried to removed Dylan's hands and see if there was any sort of bruise, but Dylan just slapped it off and rushed to his pile of clothes on the chair. "Forget it, we're running late anyway!"

Dylan threw a loaf of bread with tuna stuffed inside right at Raymond's face. "Let's go!"

* * *

 _"The fact I can talk to you this way just shows how close to death I am."_

That sentence haunted him from morning since.

It was a weird dream. It should be a weird dream, and nothing more. But Raymond couldn't help but feel it was something more, something transcendent had interfered.

Maybe. Just maybe.

But it was not. If that was indeed the case, then what she said was as good as true.

"Welcome to the second day of the Yu-Gi-Oh tag team tournament, Duelist Kingdom!" The announcement echoed far and wide. The whole stadium was roaring with that echo; only a deaf man couldn't hear it. Raymond knew that because they were at the edge of it, far away from where they were supposed to be. They weren't necessarily late, but they had planned to come much earlier just to avoid the inevitable crowd of people pushing against each other.

The marble-plated floor had the manners to be silent, unlike the wooden floor within Raymond's own house. Yes, he still had a house; the man he once called father at least didn't take away everything. He himself had to learn how to maintain it the best he could. It'd never be as good as it once was, but a house nevertheless. Cold air blast against his sweaty clothes that had spent a long time with only an open window back at Dylan's hotel.

Dylan patted on his shoulder and leaned in, reminding him of his presence.

"You sure you're alright?" Dylan shot him a curious look. Raymond looked to him like he hadn't slept on the right side of the pillow, with his eyes downcast all day. And his eyes, so focused on whatever they happened to fall upon. An archer's eyes compared could simultaneously be greater and lesser than the pure focus of his.

"How about you stop staring at that security and come with me?" Dylan suggested. "Seriously, I think you're creeping him out."

There was a man there? Now that Dylan mentioned it, he realized he had been staring at someone this whole time. Which shouldn't be the case since he was nothing to look at. Raymond nodded, agreeing to Dylan's advice as he quickly charged after him, right to the heart of the crowd. Raymond picked up his pace, not wanting to lose Dylan in the clutters of people pushing against the two.

"Novak! I think I found our entrance!" He raised his voice. And indeed he did, pointing at a door with a sign labeled: 'Participants only'. The guards pushed the crowd back as the two entered through the VIP entrance. Once they were in, the atmosphere got a whole lot better. No accidental touchings, no invasion of personal space, no smell of bad hygiene. Seriously, the hygiene, they must make a rule about that. How many times had he mentally and verbally complained about it?

"Shit! It's almost starting!" Dylan lead him upstairs, with another crowd of people pushing each other out of line as Raymond looked down from the interior balcony. There were well-dressed security everywhere he looked; they left their right hand patted over their holstered gun.

"Trudeau," Raymond called out. "Why is there armed security for a card game?"

Dylan turned to him and shrugged, but still walking to a door with two security standing at the end of the hall. "Maybe it's because there's three million dollars on the line and we don't know who's going to lose their mind if they lose."

True. The day before yesterday, there already was almost a fight that broke out because of Travis, who is said to be the luckiest man on to play the game.

He follows Dylan through the door, finding an enormous black room, with a large white area of space at the center. With rows and rows of cushioned seats, at a moving upwards, to maximize viewing per seat. The exits are to the left and right at the very bottom step, or maybe a way to the back. He also finds himself on the few balconies in this place.

"I think this is where we wait." There's no one else up here except the two of them. Was this really it? Did they take a wrong turn and ended up somewhere else or were they just early relative to the other contestants? It seemed that Raymond was the only one concerned as Dylan grabbed a chair and made himself at home.

"Why do we even wait?" Raymond asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, you're new to tournaments." Dylan said. "Every tournament, Konami always likes to do a voice actor duel before the semi-finals begin."

"Voice actor duel?"

"You know how Dan Green voices Yugi in the dub? And Eric Stuart as Kaiba? They'll have voice actors play those characters live on stage, with a scripted duel to entertain the audience, you know, for nostalgia purposes." Dylan then chuckled to himself. "Do you know who they brought in last year?"

"No, who?"

"Scud!"

Raymond stared at Dylan blankly. "Who?"

"Scud." Dylan got visibly irritated by the mere utterance of the name. Sarcastically. Sarcastic irritation. "This dude, this son of a bitch, whose whole purpose in the story, is to literally be obliterated by Aigami's magical Rubik's Cube and doesn't even duel before being obliterated."

Okay. That would require Raymond to know who this Aigami character is in the first place.

"I am not joking," Dylan continued. "Scud somehow got in before freaking Alexis, Duke 'I'm bringing sexy back' Devlin, Bruno, and the rest of the giant list of characters more relevant than him. And worse of all, they skipped my girl Blair! And even worse than that, MY BOY THE CHAZZ!"

"So, who's going to be in the script duel this year?" Raymond asked, for conversation sake. He highly doubt that it'd be any character he would recognize, just as he didn't recognize the name of Aigami and Scud.

"This year should be good though." Dylan clapped his hands together and started rubbing them. "It's Zane Truesdale versus Kite Tenjo."

…

Cyber Dragons versus Galaxy-Eyes.

"Kind of coincidental, isn't it?"

Wasn't Raymond's head bashed enough?

Suddenly, the stadium went pitch black. Raymond could hear the mumbles in the audience, full of questions everywhere. Raymond turned his head to test his senses, but the line of left and right blurred, not certain where is where. And then shone a single spotlight, with a well-dressed man standing in it.

"Attention duelists! I hope you're all having a good time today!" He yelled to the microphone. "Welcome back to the final rounds between the four remaining finalists in the Day two of the Yu-Gi-Oh TCG exclusive Duelist Kingdom Tournament held right here in the Big Apple!"

The crowd started to cheer in unison, loud and proudly. Dylan sure jumped at the sound, not prepared for this much excitement for just a card game. Raymond took a second look, this time more closely. Now there's more than hundreds in this stadium, multiplying every five minutes; certainly much more than the first time he looked around.

"I hope everyone had the chance to enjoy themselves this weekend! You know, before we all have to return to our bosses." he continued; some of the crowd laughed it off, the others gave him a slight chuckle. He looked behind them, nodding at a some of the staff in the shadows and then turn back to his audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think you've all wait long enough as it is already, so let's get on with this!" He pulled out a card from his suit. "The first semi-final match will be…"

Raymond and Dylan leaned in closer, despite that they could hear just fine. Instinctual habit, nothing more.

"Raymond Novak against Travis Eldon Lawrence!"

The audience clapped for a short while as expected, as a slight dread overwhelmed Raymond for a time.

Him? Against Travis? Again? After what happened yesterday? Did his chances of beating Travis even improved? All Raymond between that time and now was walking, watching the stars, then sleeping. He made no improvements on his deck whatsoever. Then again, he couldn't afford to. What difference would it have made anyway? He had no time to practice and experiment different combinations or strategies.

He knew he had to beat Travis; this whole journey would be one cruel joke if he couldn't. But to actually go through with it, was entirely different. It felt like a level in a game. The player was destined to clear the level, the game wouldn't progress otherwise. The skill of the player, however, had nothing to do with destiny. It was the best way he could describe the sensation.

"And our last match-up will be Dylan Trudeau against Alec McGregor!" The announcer resumed again with excitement in his tone. "But before we get started, we have a special treat for you all! This year, for our annual tradition…"

"Shame." An accent voice came behind Raymond and Dylan, surprising them both. The announcer's voice faded in the background. "I was hoping to duel Dylan-boy first."

"Travis." Dylan greeted. Of course, he couldn't be any less happier to see him.

"And Mister Novak!" Travis opened his arms up, but neither of them went for a hug. Jolly and without a care in the world. Why would he? As far as he was concerned, he was going to win this thing. And he stank of the other extreme, of cologne and perfume masking the unmistakable hideousness coming from his soul. Quite an aroma strategy against the weak-willed and easily swayed.

"It's good to see you again." Raymond offered up a handshake, paying Travis's due respect. However Raymond thought of him, Travis still showed mercy yesterday.

"Indeed Mister Novak." Travis smiled and accepted the handshake firmly. Firmly, as in trying to squeeze as hard as possible, but still losing to Raymond.

"Wow!" Travis remarked to Dylan. "You definitely won't want to pick a fight with this guy."

"Okay." Dylan simply said. He didn't want to be a part of the conversation right now.

"I sure hope you have improved since last time, Mister Novak. I'll be expecting more of a challenge this time, and I won't be as forgiving."

"I sure do hope." Raymond have a polite smile. "I sure do hope…"

"Well," Travis coughed out. They all knew that there wasn't much else to talk about; the most likely topic that would keep the conversation alive was to talk about the weather. Nobody was going to talk about the weather. "May the best man win."

"Indeed." Raymond responded. And with that came the end of their conversation. Travis turned around and whistled as he walked away.

Dylan sighed finally when Travis left the two of them alone in the dark balcony when he shut the door behind him on his way out. Dylan closed his eyes, taking in some deep breaths as he probably conjured an imagination in his mind, while the air vent blew bent above him. Raymond could tell the signs of nervousness anywhere; Dylan wasn't really a pro at hiding it.

"Nervous?" Raymond asked.

"Yeah…" Dylan breathed out. "You'd probably would lose against Travis, which means I would have to face him again in the finals."

"Wow," Raymond chuckled, folding his arms. "Thanks for the confidence, Trudeau."

Dylan was backpedaling it still, as Raymond could tell what kind of humiliation Dylan would feel for him to be defeated by Travis again. He won the last tournament and the tournament before that.

As far as he knew, Dylan was always second best compared to Travis.

"But…" Dylan reached into his leather jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a single card. "Perhaps this card might give you a fighting chance."

Raymond reached out and took the card. He asked no questions; he just took whatever advantage he could over Travis, and if successful, eventually Dylan. As he continued to read the card, he noticed the particular set of card numbers are located immediately underneath the right-hand side of the card's image. It wasn't any regular combination of letters and numbers, it was specifically a YCSW: 'Yu-Gi-Oh! Championship Series Worlds'.

This… this was a prize card. A one of a kind.

"I wasn't planning on giving it to you since we both knew that we would most likely face off against each other, but… I changed my mind."

"Trudeau…" Raymond was almost speechless. "Wh-why are you…?"

"You can keep that card," Dylan interrupted, before Raymond could protest. "Heck, you can keep every other cards I gave you; they're all yours now."

"What?" Raymond remarked in a half-hearted surprise. Could he really say he absolutely didn't see this coming?

"But only if you do this one thing." Dylan smiled. Raymond was all ears. "Kick Travis's ass for me."

Ah… so this was a bounty. Truly, the power of hatred knew no bounds, cold, and could last forever. If Raymond was some regular youngster with nothing but stupid vanity in his heart, yet desperately wanted to present himself wiser than his years, he would say that hatred would never amount to anything.

Luckily for Dylan, Raymond wasn't one.

Associating light with good and darkness with evil was a terrible analogy, as eventually all lights in the universe will die, leaving only darkness for the rest of time. That was only assuming that evil wasn't more powerful than good, other than that, then it'd be the perfect analogy.

Raymond saw a piece of himself in his friend. He nodded, with great camaraderie. "Believe me, Trudeau, I will try."

That was good enough for Dylan, his heart was filled.

"GALAXY-EYES! ATTACK HIS CYBER DRAGON!" The voice actor of Kite Tenjo shouted below as the crowd's too busy cheering and clapping their hands, drowning out the man's voice. It was more than a few laughs that was expected from the audience, every single one of them was fired up with enthusiasm and nostalgia, continuous clapping and obnoxious cheering.

Raymond watched on, as destiny played out its preview script in the battle between the two fictional puppets.

* * *

 **So, in light of of the reveal of the new Yu-Gi-Oh! series, lazily named "Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens", and the reveal of Master Rule 5 (technically named Master Rule 4: April 1st revisions), this story will continue the format of pre-MR5 until it ends.**

 **And Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens? My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.**

* * *

 **12/30/19**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'd just like to thank everyone who has continued reading up to this point and stuck with me and my story for the past year. I know I have a tendency to not post chapters for months at a time, but please believe me when I say that I'm trying my best to write these chapters out.**

 **There are definitely a lot of issues with this fanfiction, and deserves too. But to those of you who still saw the potential:**

 **From the heart, I thank you. I cannot stress that enough.**

 **So, as my privilege to you, I am giving you readers the power to influence my story. The information would be on the bottom A/N and would make sense once you've completed this chapter.**

* * *

It was a draw.

Kite Tenjo versus Zane Trusdale ended in a draw.

Raymond didn't know what to make of that.

The first thought was: 'That was some overcomplicated bullshit.' All the twists and turns amounted to nothing. Like a draw between a mixed-martial artist and a karate wannabe. Kito had better cards, better strategies, and a versity of maneuvers. Zane was a relic of an era long past its prime. It was plot armor that prevented Zane from losing, but even the script writers knew what level of bullshit they were on if they let Zane win too, so they settled for a draw.

"Let's give a round of applause for our two voice actors and our participants!" The announcer enunciated. Bowing to the audience, they took turns waving thanks as they made their way off the stage. The semi-finalists have the front row seats; Raymond sat next to Dylan, Dylan next to Travis, and Travis next to Alec McGregor. Alec was a nobody, at least to the three of them. Raymond definitely never met him, and from the looks of it, neither had Dylan or Travis. Which is kind of weird, to be honest. Who was Travis's tag team partner on Day One? Shouldn't he be with him? The same question could be applied to Alec. What special circumstances led to this?

"Now, to continue on with Duelist Kingdom! We have our first semi-final, Raymond Novak versus Travis Eldon Lawrence! Please make your way up the stage!"

The spotlight snapped to Raymond so fast that his brain misinterpreted it to be an incoming attack. Jesus Christ, just thinking that made him feel embarrassed; a cat chasing a dot of laser embarrassed. So bright, that the color of his blonde hair blended so elegantly with his skin. Hands shading the eyes, he saw the only other spotlight was on Travis of course, and Dylan caught in between and Alec getting roped in from the edge. All four of them had trouble seeing.

It was either some idiot screwed up with the brightness setting or that they didn't realize the auditorium was that dark until they were forced out of it.

Dylan breathed a sigh of relief as the spotlight followed away when Raymond and Travis finally walked towards the platform.

The crowd went wild at the first step on the stage. Whether it was courtesy or actual hype for their dueling prowess was beyond the question. It'd be kind of nice if they were cheering for his dueling prowess though, reminiscent of the cheers of unruly gamblers betting on his victory in the ring. Not because he enjoyed it nor did he despise it, but because of its familiarity. Familiarity which bred confidence. Confidence wasn't going to increase the odds in his favor, but it was better than plain old defeatism.

Maybe it was just Raymond, but Travis moved like a snake. Had he always walked like a snake? Or was this Raymond's own mind tricking him into thinking Travis as more and more of an enemy? More… despicable. It sure was working; he could feel his hatred growing. How could he hate a man he only known for less than a week? It was that he reminded him of his father.

Just like last time at the cafe, and now this time at this duel. Travis was lucky that he shared no other relations with his father. Otherwise, he would make him pay for the sins of the father. Nevertheless, Travis can not win. He must not win. Raymond's anger would be unmatched if he does win.

"Now for those of you just joining us," The announcer smiled at the camera. "Let me once again explain…"

"You won't last three turns, Mister Novak." Travis blurted out whilst the rules were being re-explained to the audience, both off-stage and back home.

"What makes you say that? Perhaps I might beat you in three turns."

"It's written in the stars," Travis facetiously said. "I have the favor of destiny on my side."

It ticked Raymond off, though he didn't show it. Instead, he gave a little leer and carried on like a gentleman. Funny, wasn't it? The concept of destiny was such a benevolent comfort when it suited him; all of a sudden it became the worst thing man had ever concluded to when it didn't suit him. But what could he expect from himself? He realized that he never believed before that there was any truth, only power existed to dictate what was true and what was false.

He didn't know how to respond to that. But he… prayed he would in time. Whether in seven days or seventy-seven years, he hoped that at least one day, he could. By then, he hoped, he would come to see that his mother was not wrong. There is such a thing as the Truth, eternal and unchanging. That she was indeed wise in her choice in how she lived, worshiping God who never showed Himself even once. She wanted him to live as she did, and now came the time to do it. For her, for her honor.

 _"I'm opening my heart up here… I'm willing to accept you into my heart and praise Your name… Heck, I'll dedicate my whole life to You."_

Those words he said back at that hospital chapel came back to his memories. The deal he made that he would dedicate his life—as Mom did hers—to Him if He did this one thing for Him. How could he forget?

Forget it. The deal was off.

He was going to dedicate his life whether he wins or not. If he wins, then all praise be to God. If he loses, then why the hell would he want to enrage the One who has the power to destroy both body and soul in Hell? The only reason why he would enrage Him was if his family were there too; but Mom certainly wasn't, and and he could confidently claim that Reynalda wouldn't.

'Coward.' His past self would've repulsed and revolted against what his soul was saying now. His past self was wrong. What? Did this miserable clown wrought from his memories think it was going to get a concedance followed up by a flimsy excuse in justifying how he could hold the two contradiction at the same time.

No. it would not get a concedance. He was wrong, and now he was right.

Raymond folded his arms together and leaned back against the chair once he finished shuffling Travis's deck as Travis shuffled Raymond's. He dared. "You want to bet?"

"Oh?" Travis raised a brow. Smiling, grinning, all too amused with Raymond's seemingly childish antic. "After what happened last time?"

"I begged for mercy, Travis. I didn't break off the gamble and stormed out of that cafe with my stuff, did I?" Raymond rebuted, leaning forward, inches closer every five second. He was goading Travis on, trying to play into his overconfidence. "I won't beg this time."

"And what would you want from me, Mister Novak?" Travis continued shuffling the deck, although he had shuffled enough. Raymond had gotten his attention. Good; there was something he wanted to try out.

"Your luck."

Travis stopped shuffling. "Pardon?"

"You heard what I've said." Raymond affirmed, unfolding his arms and aggressively pressed his hands on the table. "If I win, I get your luck and whatever else that is benefiting you."

Travis chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Mister Novak, you can't possibly think that it's something tangible I can give to you. It's ludicrous!"

"Doesn't matter, I want it."

"If you want to make this foolish attempt, so be it." Travis sighed, still chuckling. "In return, when I win, I want all the money you have on you and your cards too."

"I accept." Raymond reached out his hand, waiting for Travis to offer his. Travis looked, his hand hovered, and his hand was half-closed. Travis was seemingly hesitant, putting it the best way he could. Come on… come on…! Take the bait.

"Very well, Mister Novak." Travis took Raymond's hand. "I accept this wager. And this time, there will be no mercy."

Raymond had him. "I summon the Almighty God upon us as witness to bind our words."

A gust of wind made its way out from the air vent above and descended upon the two men.

Fear. True, unabashed fear washed over Travis's face as his hand squeezed Raymond's so hard that Raymond could feel the trembling. Both fear and anger, with an added element of shock and dismay. Was… was Travis even starting to sweat? It was as if Travis felt something was behind both of them and it was anything but an idle manner.

Unexplained strength pulsed from Travis's hand to Raymond's, as he found it difficult to break free from Travis's tight and twisted grip. Which was quite an achievement itself, considering his own strength. Every second that passed, Travis got more and more… Honestly, Raymond didn't know the best way to describe it. He wasn't petrified, but more as in he truly had stakes in the game now, as if he didn't before.

So, there was something that Travis was afraid of, after all?

Everything seemed silent and time went slowly for them. Neither of them spoke anymore for the rest of the duration before the duel was about to begin.

Given all this reaction he was getting from Travis, it was safe to assume that it worked. He added the title 'Almighty' to be extra cautious, just as how priests ended their congregational mass. And it told him something else too: that Travis knew it would work.

Was this how Travis got this supernatural luck? He gambled against God for His favor? Wait, no, that wouldn't be possible even in a theological sense; he was pretty sure that somewhere in the Bible said that looking at God's face would kill him. And look at Travis; a man of constant adultery would definitely not survive looking at the face of ultimate goodness.

It had to be this way.

So, Travis gambled somebody for their luck, but then that just presented the problem of infinite regress. Unless, he combined the two theories together. God willingly gave a man His favor, and that man lost it in a gamble. And ever since then, it has been passed down from one to another like an emperor overthrowing his predecessor and bestedd by his successor. How long this had been going on remained a mystery, but it probably hadn't been going on for that long.

The fact that this wasn't even close to common knowledge and the decline of religion led to the hypothesis.

"It's time to duel!" the announcer screamed. Raymond was snapped out of his train of thought and the announcer retreated to the shadows as a disappearance act.

"Would you like to go first or second, Mister Novak?" Poisonous and subtle, Travis's hiss permeated. "I don't mind either result."

Raymond narrowed. "I'll take the first turn."

[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/5]

There were no spells or traps in his starting hand, only monsters. Damn, maybe he should've taken the second turn instead. Three of them were unsummonable: all three copies of his Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons. His own, his sister's, and… his mother's…

 _"Mommy! Mommy! Can we buy this card! Please! Please! Please!"_

 _"Sweetie, you have the same card at home. Why do you want another one?"_

 _"Because Sis always gets to play it before I do! I think that one doesn't like me!"_

 _"Raymond, it's just a card. It's not alive to pick and choose who it likes."_

 _"But Mommy! It sure acts like it!"_

 _"Fine, I'll buy you one and one for myself."_

 _"Why do you want one?"_

 _"Because in case your new one doesn't like you either, I can stuff mine with all of my love and give it to you. It definitely will learn to love you like I do."_

 _"Really!?"_

 _"Now what do you say when someone does something for you, Raymond dear?"_

 _"Thank you, Mommy!"_

He felt it then when he was only five years old and he felt it now. She was only playing along with his childish and ridiculous power fantasies, but that didn't mean she didn't do as she said. Her love was with him, packaged and wrapped in a piece of cardboard spanning three inches in height and two inches in width. Something so big in something so small.

She was with him.

Raymond renewed himself. He must play the best he can, even if the odds are not in his favor. "I special summon Galaxy Brave by revealing Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon in my hand!"

[ATK Galaxy Brave: LIGHT LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/0 DEF/0]

"I then normal summon Galaxy Wizard and increase its level by four."

[ATK Galaxy Wizard: LIGHT LV/4 — 8 Spellcaster/Effect ATK/0 DEF/1800]

"I xyz summon! Number 38: Hope Harbinger Dragon Titanic Galaxy!"

[ATK Number 38: Hope Harbinger Dragon Titanic Galaxy/2: LIGHT RK/8 Dragon/Xyz/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"I end my turn."

[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/3]

This should be good enough to last him at least one turn. The most important card in the game is a spell card. Trap cards were too slow as he must set and wait for one turn. Monsters are less limiting, but he was limited to one free summon in attack position. Sure, there are special summons, but those are costly. Spells are the best: they can be played straight away, they do not need to wait for one turn if set unless it was a quick-play, and there were no limits on how many spells one could play in a turn.

Throughout the entire tournament, Raymond has found spells to be the thing to most focus on. If Raymond can figure out which one of Travis's spells was the key card in his combo plays and disrupt it, his chances of winning would soar far higher.

Of course, this didn't mean the plan was going to be a success. Harbinger's effect was public knowledge; Travis definitely knew to be careful not to have his key card negated. Was he going to play a decoy card and hope Raymond negated that? Or was he going to play his actual key card hoping Raymond would think it was a decoy card and let it slide?

This was made even more difficult when he didn't know what kind of deck Travis was playing whilst Travis certainly knew Raymond's. Hopefully, it'd be one of the decks Raymond had faced before in this tournament.

Travis, all the phlegmatic, drew his card.

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

"Pot of Extravagance; I banish six random cards from my Extra Deck to draw two cards.

This was a game of chicken. Was Travis trying to bait out Hope Harbinger's spell negation effect or was this a card he really needed? If it weren't for the clause stating that it could only be activated at the start of Main Phase One, Raymond would've instantly negated it. It would've lean more towards the side of resource collection. The pot's prohibition of drawing anymore cards hinted at desperation, and he would've had to start the duel with one less card.

But that wasn't the case. Raymond had to toss a coin.

"Hope Harbinger negates."

Travis grinned.

He tossed wrong.

"I activate Volcanic Spirit, if I control no monsters, this spell allows me to special summon a level four or lower Volcanic monster like Volcanic Rocket from my deck! Which in turn let me add Blaze Accelerator from my deck, to which then I will activate!"

[ATK Volcanic Rocket: FIRE LV/4 Pyro/Effect ATK/1900 DEF/1400]

"Also, you get inflicted five hundred points of damage in return for Rocket not being able to attack this turn."

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/8000 — 7500 Hand/3]

"I activate the continuous spell, Volcanic Wall! Once per turn, I can send up to three cards from the top of my deck to inflict five hundred more damage for each Volcanic card sent!"

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/7500 — 6000 Hand/3]

"Well would you look at that!" Travis exclaimed, pleased with the result. Three Volcanic monsters: Shell, Counter, and Scattershot. "Scattershot adds another five hundred!"

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/6000 — 5500 Hand/3]

Damn it! It's a burn deck. Raymond had no efficient counters for decks focused on effect damages. Sure, he had general negates, but those would be wasted away either due to the effect damages or the other cards he had in his arsenal, plus the fact that he was still going to get burned anyway because burn decks slowly poked away his life points with numerous cards, not just one card with massive damage.

"Volcanic Shell activates from the graveyard! I can pay five hundred life points to add another Shell from my deck!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/8000 — 7500 Hand/2 — 3]

"Blaze Accelerator activates! By discarding a pyro type monster with five hundred or less attack points, I can target and destroy your Harbinger! In exchange for not being able to attack this turn, of course."

NO! So, it was a burn deck with the capability to destroy cards as well? That was double the trouble. Raymond was now not only opened to a direct attack, but no defenses or counters as well.

Shouldn't panic yet. Blaze Accelerator had locked Travis out of the Battle Phase, so his chances of surviving this turn were good. He just had to hope that the effect damage wouldn't be enough to wipe him out. Travis only had so many cards to play, and the damage pattern was in multiples of five hundred, with most of them just staying five hundred. He should be good, but he had the feeling that he wouldn't.

"I now normal summon Royal Firestorm Guards, which when normal summoned, I shuffle four pyro monsters in my graveyard into the Deck and draw two cards."

[ATK Royal Firestorm Guards: FIRE LV/4 Pyro/Effect ATK/1700 DEF/1200]

"I overlay Royal Firestorm Guards and Volcanic Rocket to xyz summon Volcanic Blazing Hawk!"

[ATK Volcanic Blazing Hawk: FIRE RK/4 Pyro/Xyz/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/1500]

"I can detach one material and pay a multitude of five hundred life points to special summon one token to your field for each five hundred I've paid!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/7500 — 5000 Hand/3]

"These tokens can't be used for any type of summoning, whether special summoning or tribute summoning, nor can they change their battle positions! And you take five hundred damage each time one leaves the field!"

[5 X ATK Volcanic Tokens: FIRE LV/1 Pyro/Token ATK/500 DEF/500]

No… his monster zones… they're all filled with these unwanted weaklings! How was he going to summon now!? The only zone left for him was the Extra Monster Zone, which was useless. Even if the tokens could be used, he couldn't synchro summon because there were no tuners, nor could he xyz summon because tokens were not an acceptable material. The only summoning method left for him was to fusion summon from the hand. He had no fusion cards in his hand; how in the world was he supposed to do that?

"It's over, Mister Novak. I told you this duel would end quickly and alas, my words have come true."

No. As he said before: he must play the best he can, even if the odds are not in his favor.

"If I have a Blaze Accelerator on my field or in my graveyard, I can activate Outburst Blaze Accelerator to pay five hundred and special summon a Volcanic from my deck, ignoring its summon conditions!"

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/5000 — 4500 Hand/2]

"Please, Mister Novak, give a warm welcome to Volcanic Doomfire!"

[ATK Volcanic Doomfire: FIRE LV/8 Pyro/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/1800]

Damn… Volcanic Doomfire. He remembered this card from his school days. During his battle phase, he must attack it with any attack position monsters he controlled. And when Doomfire destroyed a monster and sent it to the Graveyard, it'd destroy all monsters he controlled and inflict five hundred damage to his life points for each monster destroyed by this effect.

Essentially, he was trapped. When his turn comes, he'd have no choice but to attack with the tokens, whom themselves each carried a bomb of five hundred life points. That, and Doomfire would result in five thousand points of damage. And that was just effect damage alone! Add another twenty-five hundred from the battle and that'd take the remaining five hundred life points Raymond would have left!

"I set a card and end my turn." Travis was enjoying this, enjoying crushing him absolutely. Revenge for summoning God.

[TURN 2 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/4500 Hand/1]

Hand on the deck, it lingered in the state of limbo. It wasn't drawing the next card nor was it moving away from the deck. It was just there, hanging on the balance. Afraid to draw, afraid to be let down. He knew he said that he would play the best he could even if the odds were against him but… now he was starting to doubt. Out of all times, now was when he was losing his spine.

He had his mother with him. He had his sister with him. He had himself. But they weren't enough. Even with the three of them together, they were helpless against their opponent. If he only could draw out the one ingredient to fuse them all into one, a powerful one whose explosive strength could cut off even the strongest of enemies, and destroy all his adversaries completely. He needed God.

He must believe that God was here. He must believe that God was on his side, that He would see that it would be better to side with the violent sadist who admitted that he had hurt numerous people in different ways, including his own flesh and blood, than to side with an unrepentant adulterer who eats and sits as if he had done nothing wrong.

He had given God his devotion. Now was the time for God to respond. Please, for his sanity's sake, say something.

He drew the card.

[TURN 3 Raymond Novak LP/5500 Hand/3 — 4]

God answered.

"I activate Polymerization!"

The act surprised Travis when Raymond drew the right card for the right time. Not to mention that he was kind of shocked that Raymond put not two, but three Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons into his graveyard.

"I fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/12 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/4500 DEF/3800]

"That's impossible!" Travis caught himself almost slamming the table with his fist. "That's a prize winner card! With no reprints, there could be only one in the world! How did you—!"

Travis then realized and snapped his head towards the seats. His eyes narrowed in raw yet contained anger at the man who was one year Raymond's junior, wearing that brown leather jacket a fighter pilot would, and that grin on his face as he swerve those jet black hair back. To be honest, he was looking swag with that composure.

"Dylan." He sneered. "So he hates me that much, huh? Can't say I blame him. I am better than him in every way; the weak will always be jealous of those who have more than them."

God, please add arrogance to his list of naughty deeds.

"This one is from Trudeau." Raymond redirected Travis's attention to himself again. "If Hypernova is special summoned, I can banish all cards you control face-down!"

"WHAT!?" Travis jolted up from his seat. He then promptly sat down. "Well then I activate my trap, Breakthrough Skill! I can target your monster and negate its effects!"

"Useless! I chain Hypernova's quick effect! By destroying itself, I can inflict damage to you equal to its original attack!"

[TURN 3 Travis Eldon Lawrence LP/4500 — 0 Hand/1]

The crowd gasped. Their mind's eyes blinded for a moment, stuttering in their sounds. Subsequently, the rush kicked in and they took in more light than anyone would've expected, every part of them broke out of statis when their thoughts finally caught up. After a wash of cold they step from the shadows, feeling a new warmth to the day.

Travis Eldon Lawrence didn't fare any better. He was white as chalk, brittle as one too. His eyes and his mouth were frozen; neither tight shut nor wide open. In an expression of stunned surprise, keeping some degree of integrity. Although he was staring straight at the board with pure intense adrenaline, he appeared not to be on Earth at all.

"Did… did I just lose?" Travis finally spoke. After all those minutes scrambling for words inside his mind's puzzle, that was all he could come up with.

Raymond shifted in his seat, taken to a plane of metaphoric existence. The stake was in his right hand, the holy cross in his left. Facing down the undead vampire who refused to believe he had been best by a mere human man, and supported by an unseen benevolence. One word, and the strike would send the creature back to its dirty, ugly coffin. No amount of deniance could strike down the truth trampling out the vintage where the lies are grown.

"Yes." Raymond proclaimed. "Yes, you have lost."

In one, the hearts of the crowd, uproared in cheers. They couldn't believe it: the unbeatable has been beaten. Not only beaten, but totally humiliated. World champion titled 'King of Games' for two years in a row, undoubtable millionaire with two jackpots under his belt, thus can afford the best cards known available to mankind—even if he didn't because of his incredible fortune—lost to essentially a novice playing with hand-me-down cards.

It was the classic tale of David and Goliath.

Pawn in God's plan, was he now? Hindsight was indeed clarity. To Travis, he was given his chance to do whatever that God wanted him to do. He chose not to, and so now He built him up big and strong, and seemingly unstoppable, to finally crumble and give up what he had to somebody with no power to stop him. So weak for Travis, that Raymond could not become boastful and say that his power intellect and strategy had delivered him victory.

Travis was the man cursed with the task of gathering and storing up his fortune to hand it over to the one who didn't toil for it.

Now, only one more opponent was left and Raymond was going home with the money for the cure and celebration tickets for her recovery.

* * *

The electrocardiogram machine finally showed that Reynalda returned to her normal heartbeats. She awoke as if she was in dire need of a savior—because she did—as if sleeping had been death's calling to her. Once she did, her heart beated fast again, defeating the whole purpose of the doctors and nurses surrounding her who worked hard to stabilize her heart rate. Buzzing was bouncing around in her brain and together they panicked the nerves.

Once that was over, her brain went flat on the adrenaline rush.

"Oh thank God!" The intern Rhoads breathed a huge sigh of relief. "I thought we were going to lose you!"

That was it. That was all she heard. The doctors were most certainly talking to her about how she was on the brink of death and how she was lucky to be alive right now, but she tuned it all out. All she could think about was what she dreamt of, or what she saw if it wasn't a dream. It was more real than her usual dreams. She didn't feel it, she knew it. A vision extraordinary.

She was at Mom's birthday party; not as kids, but as they were now. All grown, with all the memories of her death and beyond; couldn't be a memory. Raymond brazened into the kitchen room with an ice-cream cake in his hands and thirty candles lighting his face. Topped with frozen strawberries, little melon balls, chocolate shavings, and many other things she could've ever wanted on an ice cream cake, Mom as well.

'Happy Birthday, dear Mother~!' He was walking to them, where both she and Mom admired his most talented singing.

And the smile… God! That smile! She hadn't seen a smile so genuine, so abundant of happiness that he could have the Spring season at his beck and call, in such a long time! The black marks he had in his soul was eradicated, leaving nothing to hinder the light from transfiguring him inside out, radiant in the luminance of the shimmering galaxy. It was beautiful.

Mom blew out the candles in one blow. And at that moment, the revelations were allowed to be revealed to her.

God wanted her to die.

He showed her what would happen if she lived. She and Raymond would take a long vacation to the Tropical Caribbeans, where they would relive their childhood innocence and happiness. Then, when they got back home, he'd introduce her to a friend younger than the both of them. A friend of his was a friend of hers. But that friendship would blossom beautifully into something else. Something romantic.

She would have two boys and two girls, and she would love them all dearly with her husband. Raymond would find himself love too and give her nephews and nieces, who would sometimes visit her when Raymond visited and play with their fellow children. They would grow up into something she would be proud of. Her life was going to go happily ever after.

And then that vision ended.

He flung her across the years the future had yet to see, of the world Raymond had to live in where she died. He had to live days of rages and nights of strife; his life became of misery, all in his own making. Those unborn children she so happily cherished were stripped away from this life, never to be conceived. Her husband, her haven of love, and a happy home were gone.

And Raymond… in a quiet place. With the embrace of ghosts he could not feel, and in a shelter of no one's care. Thinking. Contemplating. Hardening his heart. And once he was finished, she could barely recognize this vengeful, cruel man.

Why?

Why would God want this? How could He look in the face of so much pain and decide that it was the best possible outcome? Was this punishment? For who? For her? For Mom? For Dad? For Raymond?

She pleaded. She desperately pleaded. Please… be merciful! He was the author! He could change how this story would go! The future has not yet been published as the past was, they must be rough drafts at best! They have to be, for the sake of her sanity!

It was no use; He didn't answer. He never showed His face, nor spoke His voice. He just showed.

'It's okay, Reynalda.' She felt the comforting hand of her mother on her shoulder when she collapsed on her knees, of doom and gloom raining down on her. She turned her head, capturing all the details of Mom's face. She was beautified; that illness was banished from her and no deterioration was allowed to scar her, lest it dared defy the edict of the author.

'It's going to be okay, Reynalda.' She repeated. 'You need to trust.'

Trust who? God, who just showed her all the pain and suffering He was going to inflict? Or Mom, who was okay with all the pain and suffering that was planned for Raymond? How could she be even okay with this?

'I know what He's going to do, Reynalda…' Mom said. 'I know it all. All I'm asking is your trust, just like I trust Him.'

Reynalda broke down, clinging—like she was a child again—to her embrace for that safety Mom always provided. She dried her tears on her mother's white cloth as she wrapped it around herself for shelter. She missed her. 'Okay Mom… okay…'

And it was then they decided together on what they wanted to say to Raymond, as they were put back into that dining room with not a second lost.

"Reynalda? Reynalda!" The intern Rhoads called out to her.

"Huh?" Reynalda's mind was brought back into her hospital bed.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes," She lied. "But I'm feeling kind of off right now; can you all come back later?"

"Alright," The doctor agreed. "We'll check up on you in an hour to see if everything's still going fine. You have a good rest now."

"Thank you, Doctor." She closed her eyes as soon as they left, praying to God again that He would consider her pleas.

* * *

"Novak! I can't believe it!" Dylan practically jumped on him, jumping childishly up and down. It almost felt like Dylan wanted a piggy-back ride. Except on the front. In the presence of all these people. And Dylan wouldn't care at all until that excitement wore off and he'd realize what a complete fool he'd make himself to be. "You beat that son of a bitch! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks to you, Trudeau." Raymond interceded, offering up a fistbump instead. Not that he actually thought Dylan was going to do it, just that he wanted to kill any chance, no matter how small. He was not a touchy-feely guy, nor ever going to be.

"No comrade, thanks to us!" Dylan then proceeded to sing the anthem of Soviet Russia. Well, he attempted to. Raymond didn't know a single Russian word and he knew Dylan was botching it up brutally. "With my cards and your heart, we have triumphed against our greatest foe!"

"You mean your greatest foe?" Raymond gleefully reminded Dylan how much composure he had lost to Travis because of that inferiority complex.

"Hush now! Or you'll force my hand to send you to the gulags!"

Raymond laughed. "Okay, Trudeau."

"I'm not going to lie, you looked awesome up there." Dylan leaned in close, with an innocuous grin and rubbing his fingers together like he was spreading spice everywhere. Summing it up, he acted like a pimp pitching his start-up business. "Like you were going to single-handedly destroy your opponent with a trap card, steal his girl, topple down capitalism, and seize the means of production all in one move."

"Yes, all that's missing is my useful idjits who I can have face the wall when I finally get into power, eh?"

"And a fascist dictator who you can sign a pact with, only to have him stab you in the back and invade into the motherland! But you go scorched earth on his ass so that he can't feed his troops and fail like some frenchman a hundred and a half years earlier!" Dylan spoke incredibly fast and messaged his non-existent beard on his chin. "Which, luckily for you, I'm an eighth German."

Folding his arms, Raymond scanned Dylan up and down. He made sure he was doing it as blatantly as possible. "Funny, since out of the two of us, I'm the one with blonde hair and blue eyes. You make Germany sad."

Dylan broke into laughter and Raymond followed up.

"Anyway, it's my turn to duel the semi-finals." Dylan waved farewell before he began jogging away to his duel.

"Say 'Sieg Heil' for me when you declare an attack with Cyber Dragon Sieger!" Raymond called out, not minding the stunned looks of the people around him.

"No…" Even Dylan was a bit stunned. "That's too spicy, even for me, Novak! Wish me luck!"

Raymond did not wish him luck. Because it'd be easier to crush someone he had absolutely no connections to than to crush his new-found friend, who was kind of growing on him. If Dylan lost in the semi-finals, then it'd be great, despite how guilty he felt about thinking that way. It'd be harder to maintain a friendship if they had a strife between them, that one of them won the three million dollars and was set for life, while the other one won a lousy trip to some islands that lasted for an insignificant amount of time. Technically, that would inevitably happen anyway, but it wouldn't be by either of their hands that caused it.

So please God, pick someone else other than the two of them to pull the trigger.

* * *

 **So, Reynalda's dream. By this point, I hope you've put the pieces together. I'm giving you readers the choice on how this story would end. You can either choose to let Raymond win the tournament and live that happy ending Reynalda dreamt about. Or you can let Raymond lose the tournament and fulfill the gloomy ending which she dreads.**

 **If Raymond wins, the story ends right here. There will be no sequel, and the human race would be extinct in fifty years. If Raymond loses, then there will be a sequel, and the human race might possibly be saved. I cannot spoil how losing a tournament could led to the salvation of all people, but I do have an idea where I am going with it.**

 **Private Message me your vote.**

 **Thank you.**

 **3/7/2020**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, the votes are in! Well, only one vote. I guess I'm not that good of a writer, am I? Fair enough. I'm not going to deny the truth if it is. Nevertheless, I still plan on concluding this fanfiction in two more chapters. I always plan to finish what I've started. With that out of the way, let's go!**

* * *

Dylan Trudeau did not lose. In fact, he won quite easily. It took less turns than expected, and Alec eventually just ran out of time because he didn't know what to do against Dylan's field.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We have our second semi-finalist winner!" The announcer rumbled out.

"Alrighty!" Dylan practically soared out of his seat. Kick the table too while he was at it. "That's some Dylan magic right there!"

Raymond Novak sighed as he slowly clapped for Dylan's achievement. Raymond was definitely happy for Dylan; he deserved to win at least the semi-finals, though Raymond was doubtful it'd be enough to make up for all his stolen cards, whose cost was as high as ten-thousand dollars. An amount more than enough to be classified as an addiction.

But on the other hand, Raymond had to put him down. Dylan came so far, only to lose. A lamb to the slaughter, unknowing its destiny. Raymond pitied him for that, but it was nothing compared to saving a life. The least Raymond could do, if Dylan ever needed help in the future because of this, was to show him the same hospitality he was shown. Maybe even letting Dylan live with him if he ever went homeless for some reason, introduce him to his family and friends. Well, his sister was all that was left of his family, and Raymond never really bothered to make friends, colleagues at best. Still, the sentiment was there.

"Will Mister Raymond Novak please come up on the stage, please?" The announcer called out.

Artificial lights came onto him again as soon as his name was called. Raymond quickly intercepted the light from burning his eyes by dashing his arm in front of his face. One would think the cameraman would fix the brightness issue by now.

Striding towards the stage, the nearby audience reached their hand out to congratulate him on getting this far, that even if he lost, he should be proud that he was runner-up. It wasn't a mystery why they would think he would lose; Dylan was always runner-up to Travis, and since Raymond eliminated him in the semi-finals, Dylan would finally win a first place. In addition, Raymond was a complete unknown, some thought that him beating Travis was mere luck.

He wasn't going to deny that, since having a destiny written out by God could fit in that category while at the same time it did not count as luck.

But now… he didn't need God if he wanted to beat Dylan. He had won Travis's luck away from him, and if that was all Travis needed to beat Dylan over and over again, every time without fail, then Raymond had nothing to worry about.

Raymond would show them. He'd show them all. When this is all over, they'd curse themselves on why they didn't place their bets on him, and they should've bet on the winning horse. Whether or not they were actually gambling or just metaphorically speaking was none of his concern.

Novak readied himself as his foot finally made it onto the stage, smiling at everyone, though he wasn't good at faking his intentions. But he doubted they will pick up on his mask; they're just simply less experienced to see through it.

"Novak…" Dylan started with a congratulatory smile. "We made it."

"Yeah," Raymond sat down, shuffling his deck. "We did."

"This is our final match." Dylan said with a downcast face. He was subtly saying goodbye, as the tone implied. Shame. They would've been great friends. Sure, there were technically long-distance friendships, but that was fooling neither of them. Maintaining a friendship required physical presence, and since they lived in two different countries, there was no way they'd still that way for long, so why bother? "And after this, we'll probably never see each other again."

It was time. The end of the road. Raymond couldn't help but feel quite sad. "Then let's make this the most intense duel we'll ever have between each other."

"Yeah!" Dylan was ready. So too was he. "Let's duel, Novak!"

[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/5]

His hand must've been influenced by a divine power. A Reverse Engineering with no other trap cards, a Melody of Awakening Dragon, one Polymerization, one Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon, and finally, Sanctified Offering of Might. It was practically calling for him to summon Hypernova. It yearned for battle.

And Raymond shall answer.

"I activate Melody of Awakening Dragon! I discard the Reverse Engineering in my hand and add my two Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons!"

How could anyone deny that victory has already fallen into his hands?

"I play Polymerization to fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon!"

[DEF Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/12 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/4500 DEF/3800]

Upon special summon, Hypernova banished nothing on Dylan's field since he didn't start one turn yet. But that wasn't the point, because if it was, then he would've summoned it in attack position.

"I then activate Sanctified Offering of Might! I target one monster I control; reduce its attack or defense, whichever is higher, by any multiples of fifteen hundred, and I draw one card for each fifteen hundred lost!"

[DEF Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/12 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/4500 — 0 DEF/3800]

And what he has drawn were two very iconic trap cards out of the three.

"I set two cards face-down and end my turn."

By the laws of the card economy, he was off to a great start. A high defense wall of a monster which was impossible to remove without Raymond chaining its effect to inflict forty-five hundred points of damage, plus two set cards, and one in his hand.

[TURN 1 Raymond Novak LP/8000 Hand/1]

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 Hand/5 — 6]

"I activate Magical Contract Gate! You get to draw one card and I can add one level five or six, light-attribute monster from my Deck!"

He added Cyber Dragon Novus. Raymond instinctively knew what play Dylan was going to rely on.

"If I control no monsters in my main monster zone, I can special summon Cyber Dragon Novus from my hand by sending one light machine-type monster from my deck to the graveyard."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Novus: LIGHT LV/5 Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"As you know, Novus special summons Cyber Dragon Verstarkung I sent from my deck!"

[DEF Cyber Dragon Verstarkung: LIGHT LV/3 — 5 Machine/Tuner/Effect ATK/500 DEF/2100]

"And in turn, Cyber Dragon Verstarkung special summons one Cyber Dragon Herz and makes it level five!"

[DEF Cyber Dragon Herz: LIGHT LV/1 — 5 Machine/Effect ATK/100 DEF/100]

"I link summon Cyber Dragon Sieger using Herz and Verstarkung!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

This was the most common tactic that Dylan had played throughout this whole tournament that it wasn't even funny anymore. It was just so predictable. Next, he'd add Cyber Dragon Verstarkung from the grave.

"When Herz is sent to the grave, I add Cyber Dragon Verstarkung!"

Just as predicted.

"I activate Hypernova's effect! By destroying itself, I can inflict damage to you equal to its original attack points!"

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/8000 — 3500 Hand/6]

Chimeratech Megafleet Dragon was coming next, since Hypernova was in the Extra Monster Zone, and with a Cyber Dragon out on the field, made it ripe for the summoning. Then again, Dylan must have had to know that Raymond anticipated this, so most likely Dylan had this planned all along. Either way, Hypernova was gone.

But not really. Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon also has a graveyard effect: if a Galaxy or Photon card Raymond possessed would be targeted or destroyed by Dylan's card effects, Raymond could banish Hypernova instead. Which was good, since he knew Dylan's favorite thing to do was to steal monster by the effect of his Cyber Dragon Infinity.

It wasn't relevant right now, since he had no monsters, but it'd come up eventually.

"I then summon Cyber Dragon Core, which allows me to add a Cyber Emergency from my deck to my hand!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Core: LIGHT LV/2 Machine/Effect ATK/400 DEF/1500]

"I activate Machine Duplication to special summon two Cyber Dragons from my deck!"

"I use Novus and Cyber Dragon to xyz summon Cyber Dragon Nova!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"By linking Core and Sieger, I link summon another Cyber Dragon Sieger."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

"Once per turn I can detach one xyz material from Nova to special summon back Cyber Dragon Sieger."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2 — 1: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

[ATK Cyber Dragon Sieger: LIGHT Machine/Link/Effect ATK/2100 LINK-2]

"Cyber Rvsystem special summons Cyber Dragon back from my grave!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon: LIGHT Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"I use my revived Cyber Dragon and the other Cyber Dragon to xyz summon my second Cyber Dragon Nova!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"Once per turn I can detach one xyz material from Nova to special summon back Cyber Dragon."

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/2 — 1: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

[ATK Cyber Dragon: LIGHT Machine/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

I can also xyz summon Cyber Dragon Infinity by using one of my Cyber Dragon Nova as xyz material.

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/2: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2500 DEF/1600]

Sieger, Nova, Infinity, and Cyber Dragon would deal a total of eighty-eight hundred points of damage, more than enough to wipe out all of Raymond's life points.

"My monsters attack you directly!"

Luckily, Raymond came prepared. "I activate Magic Cylinder!"

"Cyber Dragon Infinity negates your card!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/2 — 1: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2500 — 2300 DEF/1600]

Now that the decoy had fulfilled its mission… "I activate Mirror Force!"

Dylan watched in shock as the swarm of monsters Dylan had amassed were all destroyed in one fell swoop. Although, he was thankful that it wasn't the other mirror force card Raymond had in his deck, which would've shuffled all his monsters back into the deck, as being destroyed gave Dylan more rebound.

"If Cyber Dragon Nova in my possession is sent to the graveyard by your card effect, I can special summon one machine fusion monster from my Extra Deck!"

[ATK Cyber End Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/4000 DEF/2800]

Cyber End Dragon. Of course, he summoned that one. It was the only machine fusion monster in his extra deck that could be cheated out without a fusion card and not lose any of its intrinsic value. Because it had little to begin with.

"Cyber End Dragon attacks you directly!"

[TURN 2 Raymond Novak LP/8000 — 4000 Hand/2]

"I set one card and end my turn."

[TURN 2 Dylan Trudeau LP/3500 Hand/3]

It was just as expected of Dylan, halving Raymond's life points after only one turn. But this was when Raymond would start his counterattack! "I draw!"

[TURN 3 Raymond Novak LP/4000 Hand/2 — 3]

"I pay two thousand life points to activate Galaxy Trance!"

[TURN 3 Raymond Novak LP/4000 — 2000 Hand/2]

"It special summons one Photon monster in my grave and one Galaxy monster from my deck, with the same level, both in Defense Position. Each monster's ATK becomes two thousand and their effects are negated."

[DEF Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/2500]

[DEF Galaxy Brave: LIGHT LV/8 Warrior/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/0]

"I overlay the two to xyz summon Number 62: Galaxy-Eyes Prime Photon Dragon and use that to rank-up to Galaxy-Eyes Full Armor Photon Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Full Armor Photon Dragon/2: LIGHT RK/8 Dragon/Xyz/Effect ATK/4000 DEF/3500]

"I know what Full Armor does, and I'm not going to give you the chance! I'm activating Cybernetic Overflow! By banishing the Cyber Dragon in my graveyard, I can destroy your dragon!"

Damn. It was destroyed before Raymond could destroy Cyber End Dragon. And since Full Armor did not possess a quick effect, he couldn't chain its effect. But no worries, that wasn't all his eggs in that one basket.

"First, I special summon Photon Thrasher!"

[ATK Photon Thrasher: LIGHT LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/0]

"Then, I normal summon Galaxy Cleric!"

[ATK Galaxy Cleric: LIGHT LV/4 Spellcaster/Effect ATK/1500 DEF/600]

"If Galaxy Cleric is normal or special summoned, I can target five Photon and/or Galaxy cards with different names in my grave, shuffle them into the Deck, then I draw two cards."

And he had the exact amount in his grave: Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon, Galaxy Trance, Galaxy Brave, Full Armor, and Prime Photon. Now that Hypernova was out of the grave, his protection was gone. Though that was a calculated move; since it was Dylan who gave him the Hypernova card, he sure as damn well knew what it did, and he wouldn't try to trigger its effect.

All Raymond needed was to draw the other fusion card in his deck and Hypernova would be free again.

"If I control a Galaxy or Photon monster, I can special summon Photon Vanisher from my hand!"

[ATK Photon Vanisher: LIGHT LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/2000 DEF/0]

"Same goes for Photon Advancer!"

[ATK Photon Advancer: LIGHT LV/4 Warrior/Effect ATK/1000 — 2000 DEF/1000]

"I use Galaxy Cleric and Photon Thrasher to link summon Galaxy-Eyes Solflare Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Solflare Dragon: LIGHT Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/2000 LINK-2]

"By Solflare's effect, I'm adding back to my hand the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon from my grave! Next, I overlay Photon Advancer and Photon Vanisher to xyz summon Starliege Photon Blast Dragon!"

[ATK Starliege Photon Blast Dragon/2: LIGHT RK/4 Dragon/Xyz/Effect ATK/1800 DEF/2500]

"If Starliege is xyz summoned, I can Special Summon my Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon from my hand!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

"The pieces are set." Raymond grinned. Dylan's eyes narrowed at the realization it was checkmate.

"Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon attacks Cyber End Dragon! When Galaxy-Eyes battles your monster, I can banish both monsters until the end of the battle phase!"

Now Dylan was left open to a direct attack; Starliege's and Solflare's combined attack points were thirty-eight hundred, more than what Dylan could afford to lose. This was as fast as Travis's duel.

"My remaining monsters attack!"

"I discard Cyber Kuriboh from my hand to negate the battle damage from Solflare's attack!"

[TURN 3 Dylan Trudeau LP/3500 — 1700 Hand/2]

Raymond was surprised, then he chuckled. Dylan had the right card at the right time. Cyber Kuriboh could negate the battle damage of one of Raymond's monsters. And since it was now in the graveyard, its graveyard effect was locked and loaded for the inevitable return of Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon. "I end my turn, and the monsters banished during the battle phase must return."

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon: LIGHT LV/8 Dragon/Effect ATK/3000 DEF/2500]

[ATK Cyber End Dragon: LIGHT LV/10 Machine/Fusion/Effect ATK/4000 DEF/2800]

Cyber End Dragon ended up on Dylan's main monster zone, which meant that his extra monster zone was freed up for use.

[TURN 3 Raymond Novak LP/2000 Hand/0]

[TURN 4 Dylan Trudeau LP/1700 Hand/2 — 3]

"I activate Cyber Emergency! I add Cyber Dragon Nachster to my hand! Then, I'll discard the Electromagnetic Turtle to special summon it!"

[DEF Cyber Dragon Nachster: LIGHT LV/1 Machine/Effect ATK/200 DEF/200]

Electromagnetic Turtle too. Now Dylan could buy himself one more turn if things go south. Raymond would just have to power through it then.

"If it's summoned, I can special summon one machine monster with 2100 ATK or DEF in my grave! So, Cyber Dragon Nova is back!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/0: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"I rank up into my second Infinity!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/1: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2300 DEF/1600]

"Infinity can target an attack position monster on the field and turn it into its own xyz material! I target Starliege!"

Quick! While he still had the chance!

"I banish Reverse Engineering in my graveyard, allowing me to set Mirror Force back to my field! Then, I'll chain with Starliege's effect activating! Once per your turn, I can detach one material from it and special summon a Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon that is banished or is in my grave!"

[ATK Starliege Photon Blast Dragon/2 — 1: LIGHT RK/4 Dragon/Xyz/Effect ATK/1800 DEF/2500]

Dylan clenched his teeth. That was right, Dylan wasn't the only one who knew how to take advantage of the situation. "I activate Infinity's effect to negate your monster effect!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/1 — 0: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2300 — 2100 DEF/1600]

Raymond knew Dylan would negate it; he wouldn't want Raymond to have two level eight monsters on his field, who can protect themselves in battle. And even if Infinity were to negate Galaxy-Eyes's battle evasion effects instead, it'd still have the other one to deal with.

As a bonus, he managed to manipulate the game mechanics to protect the activation of Reverse Engineering and build up his defense, since all negation effects must respond directly to what they're trying to negate in the chain link. Cyber Dragon Infinity used up all of its xyz materials, so even when the once per turn effect resets on Raymond's turn, Dylan couldn't do a damn thing.

And finally, with Mirror Force back on his field and Cyber Dragon Infinity's effect already used up for the turn, Dylan would have no choice but to end his turn. That was assuming, if he didn't have something else in his hand.

"I end."

[TURN 4 Dylan Trudeau LP/1700 Hand/1]

[TURN 5 Raymond Novak LP/2000 Hand/0 — 1]

He drew Trace-In. With the field he had now, he could attack Infinity and call it a turn. But he still had that Cyber End Dragon to deal with. And with Solflare Dragon out, the damage he would take from Cyber End Dragon's attack would be the exact amount Dylan needed to win this duel. And although Raymond had Mirror Force face-down, what was to say Dylan wouldn't summon his third Cyber Dragon Infinity?

He had to risk it.

"I use Solflare and Galaxy-Eyes to link summon another Solflare!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Solflare Dragon: LIGHT Dragon/Link/Effect ATK/2000 LINK-2]

"By Solfalre's effect, I'm adding back to my hand the Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon from my grave! Next, I play Trade-In! By sending the Galaxy-Eyes I just added, I draw two cards!"

Raymond smiled. Fortune truly favors the bold.

"I activate Dragon's Mirror! I banish the two Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragons in my graveyard and the one on my field to again fusion summon Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon!"

[ATK Galaxy-Eyes Hypernova Dragon: LIGHT LV/12 Dragon/Fusion/Effect ATK/4500 DEF/3800]

"All cards you control are banished face-down!"

That dealt with both Cyber Dragon Infinity and Cyber End Dragon. Of course, Raymond didn't forget about Dylan's protections. But better waste them now than later.

"Hypernova attacks you directly."

"I banish the Electromagnetic Turtle from my graveyard to end the battle phase!"

"I activate Hypernova's effect! By destroying itself, I can inflict damage to you equal to its original attack points!"

"Cyber Kuriboh banishes itself from the graveyard to protect me from all effects that damage this turn!"

Raymond didn't mind Hypernova in the graveyard. Now his remaining monster was protected, which meant that Dylan would need to find some way to get rid of his Galaxy-Eyes Solflare Dragon without targeting or destroying, lest he wanted Hypernova to banish itself from the grave, and special summon itself during the end phase.

And if Hypernova comes back, Dylan's field would be obliterated once again. Raymond was counting on Dylan's psychological repetition; using the stealing effect of Cyber Dragon Infinity had become such a ritual for Dylan that he might do it without thinking, a mind on autopilot.

Still… that one card Dylan left in Dylan's hand was Cyber Dragon Verstarkung… why hasn't he tried using it yet? Was he saving for something more? Or was he saving it as a last resort since he didn't want to risk all his cards in one strategy? Probably the latter, since he would be proven right.

"I set one card face-down and end my turn."

[TURN 5 Raymond Novak LP/2000 Hand/0]

[TURN 6 Dylan Trudeau LP/1700 Hand/1 — 2]

"I normal summon Cyber Dragon Verstarkung, which will special summon—!"

"I don't think so!" Raymond intercepted. Oh, now he decided to use Verstarkung. A little too late, didn't he think? "I activate Solemn Strike! By paying fifteen hundred life points, Verstarkung's summon is negated!"

[TURN 6 Raymond Novak LP/2000 — 500 Hand/0]

His life points were dangerously close to zero. If GaGaGa Cowboy was still a staple card like it was the era long past, then Raymond would be screwed. Eight hundred points of damage was a big deal at this stage now.

"Then I will activate One Day of Peace! We both draw one card and neither one of us is going to take damage until the end of your turn!"

Well, guess Raymond didn't have to worry about effect damages for this turn then.

Dylan cursed under his breath. Raymond didn't miss it. So, he didn't draw the card he wanted, did he? Shame, because Raymond seriously doubted there would be a next turn for Dylan. And yes, he was saying that, knowing the effect of One Day of Peace. "I set one card face-down and end my turn."

[TURN 6 Dylan Trudeau LP/1700 Hand/0]

[TURN 7 Raymond Novak LP/500 Hand/1 — 2]

And with this card he just drew, Raymond was going to finish Dylan off at the standby phase.

"I activate the quick-play spell card, Different Dimension Exchange! By paying half of my life points, I can banish one monster on the field or in my graveyard to special summon a monster that is already banished beforehand!"

[TURN 7 Raymond Novak LP/500 — 250 Hand/1]

"Welcome back Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!" Raymond said to Dylan. He then immediately skipped to the end of his turn. "During the end phase, if Hypernova is amongst my banished cards, I can special summon it! It's over!"

Once the effect of One Day of Peace expired at Dylan's draw phase, Raymond would immediately activate Hypernova's effect, dealing forty-five hundred points of damage to his mere two hundred life points. Dylan would never get to respond with anything.

"Don't count your chickens yet!" What? "I activate my own Solemn Strike!"

[TURN 7 Dylan Trudeau LP/1700 — 200 Hand/0]

"Hypernova Dragon will not be coming back!"

So, at the cost of fifteen hundred life points, Dylan bought himself one more turn. This would definitely be his final turn, because if he fails to defeat Raymond, Hypernova would special summon itself back at Dylan's end phase, and Raymond would pull the trigger then.

"Different Dimension Exchange forces me to destroy one monster I control at the end phase. So I'll choose my Solflare Dragon."

[TURN 7 Raymond Novak LP/250 Hand/1]

[TURN 8 Dylan Trudeau LP/200 Hand/0 — 1]

Again, Dylan's life points were a mere two hundred, and his field was completely empty. There was no more graveyard effect for him to rely on, and he only had one card in his hand. For someone about to lose soon, what could he possibly do?

"I activate Cyber Emergency to add another copy of Cyber Dragon Nachster! And I'll summon it, in turn letting me bring back Cyber Dragon Nova!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nachster: LIGHT LV/1 Machine/Effect ATK/200 DEF/200]

Wait…

[ATK Cyber Dragon Nova/0: LIGHT RK/5 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2100 DEF/1600]

"I rank up into my third Infinity!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/1: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2300 DEF/1600]

WAIT…

"Infinity can target an attack position monster on the field and turn it into its own xyz material! I target Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon!"

[ATK Cyber Dragon Infinity/1 — 2: LIGHT RK/6 Machine/Xyz/Effect ATK/2300 — 2500 DEF/1600]

NO!

"Mirror Force won't save you now…" Dylan proclaimed. "Cyber Dragon Infinity attacks you directly!"

[TURN 8 Raymond Novak LP/250 — 0 Hand/1]

…

This… THIS ISN'T HAPPENING…! THIS MUST BE SOME KIND OF MISTAKE!

HE LOST!?

HE—!

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The booming voice interrupted his thought process. "OUR KING OF GAMES!"

"I did it! I did it!" Dylan hopped from one foot to the other like an elementary school boy who just found out that his crush liked him back. He was not ashamed one bit. He was deliriously happy, giddy even. And why shouldn't he? He just won first place, the title King of Games, and most importantly of all, he won three million dollars. All the financial burdens of his life—past, present, and future—have had its head violently dashed against the rocks and let its rotting corpse drift away to the ocean, never to be seen again. In one fierce battle cry, he leapt into the spotlight with wide eyes and wider cheer.

Raymond was the exact opposite.

"I—I can't—" Raymond was holding back tears. His nails clawed at the edges of the table. He didn't want to look at anyone, not until the sorrowful choke that seized his throat was defeated. He was resisting it, fighting it, harder than any other time in his life. He didn't forget that there were cameras pointing at him and one slip would unveil the pained face for all the world to see.

"Novak." Dylan noticed Raymond's whirlwind and tried to comfort him verbally. "I know that it's kind of important whether you win or lose, since, you know, there's money involved. But I like to think it's more important on how you play the game! And for that, this was a great duel!"

HOW DARE HE SAY THAT.

Anger flared deep and black in Raymond's system, as hot as magma. It churned and churned, hungry for the surface, where it yearned destruction. The darkness he felt, scratching at the walls, wanting to swallow him whole, flooding his veins, from head to toe. This raging molten of anger… would not overtake him. As much as he wanted to bolt off the stage and shut out the cruel reality that mocked him and just… let go of every restraint.

"Yeah…" He lied. "It was a great duel…"

Dylan naively bought it completely. He offered Raymond a handshake, to which Raymond accepted. As much as Raymond's irrational emotions kept whispering that it was okay to brutally crush Dylan's hand inside his palm, he didn't give into it. It wasn't completely Dylan's fault; he didn't know what was at stake.

But God did.

No. 'Jack' did.

Raymond didn't even want to acknowledge this evil, cruel being as any kind of deity. His depravity was without limit, His cruelty knew no bounds. Raymond bet that He created people in the pursuit of even lower evil, to allow them to experience a moment of goodness just to rip it away from them at the end of the road.

And what was it all for!? For a show!? For some audience in the sky to point and laugh at his misery!? Or was His maximum selfishness wanted to add his story to His collection of failures He could laugh at whenever He felt like it!?

WELL HE CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF.

"Well done, Mr. Trudeau!" One of the staff starts to praise him, handing him a crystal trophy with golden linings at the edges.

"Thank you! I just want to thank my mom and dad, who didn't give up on me!" He turned directly at the camera "Ma! Pa! If you're watching: I DID IT! I'M FINALLY USEFUL!" He then turned to Raymond. "I'd also like to thank Novak here for beating Travis, so I don't—"

Raymond Novak made his way off the stadium.

"Novak?" Dylan was concerned. "Where are you going? Don't you want your trophy?"

Raymond stopped for a moment and glanced at the crystal trophy with silver linings at the edges. He didn't say anything; he simply shook his head and continued on. The audience was puzzled, but quickly decided it was not a big of a deal.

He didn't have time for this. He had to get back to Reynalda as soon as possible.

* * *

 **Looking at the word count, this is the shortest chapter yet at 5,000 words.**

* * *

 **4/5/2020**


End file.
